


Not Bigger, But Brighter

by Ocreata



Series: Faith Shepard [1]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Banter, Battle Couple, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Interspecies Awkwardness, Mutual Pining, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:47:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 35
Words: 157,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27359806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ocreata/pseuds/Ocreata
Summary: **This Follows the Plotline of ME 1**Faith Shepard has a deep family history in the military-- unfortunately it isn't the only thing her family's given her.  A whole host of genetic inheritances coupled with a childhood in space has left her allergic to a laundry list of shit, and her many illnesses have her constantly fighting to prove she's capable.  Up for the job.  Not doomed to a life shoved behind a desk or set on a shelf like a glass figurine.Unfortunately every mission she's on seems to go awry, and somehow they keep praising her for it anyways.  It's hard to feel like a big fat hero when people die.  Shepard's doing everything she can to try to balance her scales and prove there's a place in the universe for her, and it finally feels like she might be redeeming herself when she's tapped for Spectre, but man...even that can't seem to go right.The scales have gotten a lot bigger, and the consequences, too.  It's hard feeling the pressure of past and military family and expectations as well as the fate of the universe.  Oddly enough, it's her new Turian friend that seems to understand that more than anyone.  But, well, he's an alien.And she's allergic to him.
Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian, Shakarian
Series: Faith Shepard [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1998265
Comments: 263
Kudos: 122





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The stars don't look bigger, but they do look brighter."  
>  \- Sally Ride
> 
> [ Fic Playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4sLT43FRa0wkMal7CxYk9z)

It was like listening to a litany of her sins being droned one by one, but none of them she could control.

“Strawberries, alliums, nightshades, peanuts, tree-nuts...”

The doctor paused, glancing over her glasses at Shepard. The stark white lights and the plasticky table underneath her ass were familiar things-- she'd been in doctor's offices her whole life, it felt like. The stare was also very familiar.

“Gluten?”

“No, I can have gluten...still. It's not a bowel disease, just a very very well-developed immune system,” she joked faintly. “It's an unusual super power, I'll give you that.”

“Well, that's the only thing that doesn't seem to be on this list. It's unusual for so many allowances to be made for a single soldier. Generally the need for alternative rations precludes one from spec-”

“I don't ask for allowances,” Shepard interrupted, trying not to sound harsh. “Soy-protein emergency ration bars don't set off my issues as long as they're not the peanut butter or chocolate ones.” The doctor raised an eyebrow, scanning the list, and Shepard supplied it before this could drag on any further. “Dairy. I can't have casein or lactose.”

“Seems an unusual amount of self-sacrifice, and bad for your mental state to subsist on ration bars. Especially after what you've been through. Are you certain you wouldn't prefer a posting where-”

This time she couldn't keep the harshness out of her voice. “Doc, all I need you to do is sign your name on that form to clear me to do what I need to do.” She slashed a hand through the air. “That's it. I'm healed, just got some new scars. I'm healthy. The psychologist cleared me, the GP cleared me, and now all I need is for you to clear me.”

The doctor stared at her disapprovingly. Shepard had a feeling she was used to antsy soldiers trying to intimidate her. Fair enough.

“If you're going to be on a ship, I need to double your prescription of emergency epinephrine injections. Considering your pollen allergies, I'm also recommending no unfiltered exposure to non-Earth environments. I will make contact with your ship's doctor, and every time you have a reaction to something new or use an epi-pen, I need a report sent. Considering that you developed latex-fruit syndrome within the last year...”

“Betrayed by avocados,” Shepard groused, regretting that. Man did that diagnosis slash a lot of her favorite things off her 'still can eat' list.

“We can only assume that exposure to alien environments and foods may add more to your list of...ah...super powers.” At least this time there was a hint of humor to the doctor's voice.

Shepard's grimace of a smile relaxed when the doc finally signed the form on the datapad and sent it off. She wasn't thrilled, but she'd take it. Considering her issues, being nannied by a ship's doctor was a sufferance she'd have to live with. Still, when she left the hospital, she immediately called Anderson.

It was surprising he picked up.

“Shepherd. I hope you've got good news.”

“The good news is you guys are gonna save a fortune feeding me, since I can't eat real food,” she quipped, sarcastically. “Yeah, I'm cleared. My brain's functional enough, my body's functional enough- if uglier now- and my immune system's still out here saving the day from things it really shouldn't be trying to save me from.”

“If only I had people who worked as hard as your white blood cells. Well, that's the last thing I needed checked off this list. We're off to Arcturis, then, as soon as the supplies are delivered to our transport. Can't keep a Spectre waiting.”

“I'm sorry, sir, I know I'm a lia-”

“I told you to stop that. You'd think after a couple of medals you might realize that you aren't a liability, Faith. Crew's waiting on us. Meet me in two hours.”

“You could have told me that this was so time sensitive,” she said, trying not to be exasperated. “I didn't know my medical clearance was holding things back.”

“And that's why I didn't tell you. Call the Captain. Anderson out.”

Grumbling to herself, Shepard stomped along, hands shoved deep in the pockets of her worn-in N7 hoodie. Considering it was doctor-day, she'd wanted to be comfortable. She should be grateful that Anderson had let her get cleared so quickly, rather than take the shore leave that would have normally been required of her. It wasn't that she wasn't. But the idea that he'd been holding things back for her sake was kind of annoying.

As was being ordered to call her mother.

Still, as she slung herself into the transport with the few other people waiting, she brought it up on her omni-tool anyways. Not calling the Captain would get her in more trouble than not. Normally she would have given it a few days, but since there was no shore leave-- there wasn't any time.

It took so long to pick up that she was starting to worry.

“Lieutenant Commander.”

Mother's familiar voice, just a little amused and sarcastic, washed through her. The relief she felt was exhaled in a sigh, and she closed her eyes. Some tension she didn't know she'd been carrying started to fade.

“Captain. I'm off again. Heading to Arcturis to pick up a ship from the fleet, nothing exciting. Just a shakedown.”

“You skipped shore leave after a traumatic mission for only a shakedown? You've only been out of the hospital for a week, and I know you've mostly been on bed rest.” The disbelief was entirely warranted, but mom was career military as much as Faith was. “I never thought I'd see the day when you ended up giving me the oldest lies in the book. Classified already, pumpkin?”

“I'm assuming so, but I'm not privy and I'm just XO, so I'm just doing what I'm told. But yeah, it feels classified as hell.”

“Hmmh,” Mom murmured quietly, and Faith knew her mind was racing through a thousand different possibilities. “And you're psych-cleared?”

“Mom, how dare you try to pry into my private medical history,” she sniped playfully, smiling at Hannah Shepard's rough laugh. “Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Cleared med and psych. Even if after the Avocado Incident-”

“Ah yes, the Avocado Incident...”

Shepard swung out of the transport, folding herself into the flow of traffic heading for the Presidium commons easily. The Citadel vaulted overhead as she peered past the railing, well-filtered and hydrated air brushing past with a pleasant freshness that would soon be replaced by recycled ship air. She enjoyed the light and the breeze while she could.

“The allergist cleared me. Reminded me all over again to be grateful to Captain Anderson, though. If it wasn't for him I'd be shunted to a desk somewhere. Or worse. Training recruits.”

“We all have our struggles to push through. Sweetie, I've gotta get back to work. Keeping these disasters in line takes all my focus. Tell David I say hello, and stay safe.”

“Yes, ma'am, Captain ma'am. I'll-” A commotion at the top of the stairs she was padding up drew her attention, and she squinted as she picked up her pace. “I'll talk to you later.”

“Love you, Commander.”

“Love you, mom.”

Despite her wariness, Shepard was in no way prepared for the sudden, small figure that bolted down the pristine white stairs and lept over the railing, landing in the lush planter that followed the staircase. Shit. The plantlife rustled, and then went still, but as she approached where the child had vaulted over, she could hear faint panting.

The chaos and noise from above continued, but as Shepard leaned casually against the railing, she could pick out voices. Idly she tapped at her omni-tool, bringing up the bioscanner.

“-thief! Officer, she went that way! Please, hurry!”

“What are they, scared of a kid?” Shepard muttered to herself, and then chuckled as the plants behind her rustled nervously. “Relax, kiddo. Whatever you took, just push it out through the railing here, and I'll give it back to the officer for you. You hungry?”

There was silence, but a casual glance down at her omni-tool saw the slight elevation in heart-rate. Poor thing was nervous as a rat caught by a cat. She'd dealt with plenty of orphans in her day.

“I've got you, kiddo. If you do as I say, nothing will happen to you, okay? C-Sec's not gonna arrest a kid, especially not if they give the stuff back. Do they have ice cream here? I bet we could find some.”

In her peripheral vision she could see feet stomping down the top of the stairs, the conformation immediately identifying the approaching C-Sec as Turian. Great. Stick up the ass by the book assholes, Turians. Hopefully he wouldn't get up her ass about the kid.

The digitigrade, blue and black armored feet stomped down the stairs towards her, and an idle glance from feet to face proved the Turian bastard was wearing a visor. Damn. No hiding the kid, then. It'd have to be charm. Reaching back through the staircase railing, she wiggled her fingers expectantly.

There was another small rustle from the hiding kid, and a quiet gasp of breath.

Going for a curious, but easygoing smile, Shepard tilted her head to the side and lifted her chin to meet the brilliantly blue eyes of the officer, who paused a step above her. She slid into a casual posture, crossing her ankles, leaning on her arm. “Hey, nice day, huh?”

“They're all nice days when they're artificial,” he replied, the dual-toned voice surprisingly pleasant, both emotionally and aurally. Nice rasp to the undertone, like digital sandpaper. There was a pause, and he finally finished, “Commander.”

“You're as bad as the advertisements in the commons. Always yelling my name at me,” she complained, shoving her hand back as far through the railings as she could reach. Shepard wiggled her fingers expectantly.

It was surprisingly pleasant when he chuckled. Weird, for a Turian. Maybe this would be easier than she'd thought it would be. Their eyes met again, and she was getting just good enough at reading Turian facial expressions to realize they were in on the con together. The arch tone of his voice only confirmed it.

“I know it's a long-shot, but you didn't happen to see someone run past here, did you?”

Shepard let a hint of the smile touch the corner of her mouth, inviting him in on the joke. Easier to get someone on your side that way. “No, but I did find something on the staircase, I think someone dropped it.” A tiny rustle, uncertain, and her hand remained empty. Risking it, considering both her and the C-Sec knew the kid was there, she snapped her fingers sharply.

Just like mom always had when Faith was misbehaving.

There was a little gasp, and finally something was shoved into her hand. With a rustle of plastic, Shepard swung the shopping back out through the railing, letting it dangle from her hand as she smiled winningly. “Did someone happen to _lose_ this?”

The clear of his throat was definitely hiding a chuckle, and she could see his mandibles shift in a smile he didn't quite manage to banish. “They sure did,” he agreed, taking it from her hand when she extended it to him. “Thank you, Commander Shepard.”

Relief flooded through her. Thank god he wasn't an asshole-- she didn't have time to get into shit with C-Sec right now. Less than two hours now before she needed to ship out. “You're welcome, Officer...?”

“Vakarian. Garrus Vakarian.” He tipped his head to her and turned around, heading back up the stairs.

“No problem, Vakarian Garrus Vakarian,” she called after him, and then chuckled, dropping her head. Waiting until he disappeared, she leaned back over the railing, tilting her head to the side until she met big brown eyes staring up at her. Human. Not a teenager, but not a baby. Just on the small and skinny side. Nine maybe, or ten. “Hey, kidlet. You got a name?”

Suspicion warred with gratitude on the kid's face, the latter of which Shepard pushed with a simple, “C-Sec is gone.”

“Emi,” the girl finally replied in a faint whisper.

“I'm Shepard. I've got an hour before I have to leave. You got a family?”

When the girl shook her head rapidly, Shepard nodded. “Duct rat?”

Emi winced, but nodded with a bob of her short hair.

“Okay. I don't wanna give you anything that'll get stolen from you, Emi,” Shepard said evenly, pushing off from the railing and turning around properly. Emi shrank back, but didn't disappear. “Is there anywhere you trust to eat? In the Wards or wherever. I'll follow you, give you space. Just, you know. Not into the ducts.”

It took a minute or so, but eventually the promise of food won out. Shepard followed Emi to Bachjaret Ward. Amusingly, this was probably the most she'd seen of the Citadel so far.

Trust her to get a tour from a thief.

Emi ate like she'd never eaten before in her life, unsurprisingly.

The small restaurant they found themselves at was touted as being Asari cuisine, though the chef looked to be Salarian. The kid didn't seem to find anything to complain about. Luckily this far from the Presidium, they didn't get too many strange glances. Her new friend was pretty dirty.

“Are you sure I can't get you anything?” the single waitress, a young Human woman, asked Shepard, giving Emi another glance that wavered between concern and wariness. Probably wondering if she was going to steal the silverware.

“Yeah, I've got a lot of dietary restrictions. Thanks, though. Do you guys do accounts? Like, could I link myself up and pay for, say, two meals a day for a while?” Shepard ran the numbers in her head, and decided they wouldn't make too much of a dent. It wasn't like she ever spent any of her credits anyways. Emi paused in her devouring, glancing up at Shepard warily through the curtain of her unevenly-shorn black hair.

“You could...” the waitress said uncertainly, glancing down at the orphan.

“Sorry, I'm so rude. What's your name?” Shepard asked, turning on her most winning smile.

The waitress flushed faintly. “Clara.”

“Clara. Like the Nutcracker. I love that ballet. I'm Commander Shepard. My friend here just needs some help, and I need some good karma,” she joked, flashing a quick wink. “Balance my scales a little. But I've gotta be out of here in fourty five minutes- I don't get a lot of time off ship these days. Off saving the galaxy and all that.”

“I ah-” Clara smiled, ducking her head a little bit. Shepard let her smile warm, just a little, tilting it in that cocksure, lopsided way that she'd been told was 'dangerous'. It worked. It usually did. Clara sighed. “I suppose we could work something out. I'll handle it myself. Jalek probably won't mind, but he definitely won't mind if I take care of it and don't tell him.”

“Well, if it's you handling it, I feel like my credits are in good hands. Let me just make a separate account real quick and set it up, you can scan it to link up my tab on the way out. Fair?”

Clara agreed, and Shepard set to work, idly going over her current accounts and checking balances. Jesus, she really need to actually sit down and go through this, her finances were a mess. But if she averaged the prices off the menu and what the kid had picked out today, she could make a guesstimate of how much two meals a day would cost, and then add a bit extra just in case...

“Why?” a small voice asked her from across the table, barely stronger than the whisper she'd ordered in.

“Wrong question. The right question is why not, Emi.” When Shepard glanced up, she met the wary, dubious look cast her way and tried not to smile. Hard not to with that smear at the corner of her mouth. “I don't have a mate, or kids, or a home, or any particularly expensive vices. It seems like you need some help. I can be a real asshole, Emi, so I try to help people out so I can keep sleeping at night.”

No point talking down to a kid living out on her own. They needed some real sharp instincts to survive, and most of the orphans she'd ever met had a finely tuned bullshit meter. Some of the wariness faded, but the uncertainty remained.

“But you gotta make me a deal.”

“What?” Emi asked, a little less meek. Shepard hadn't missed the small spark of fear in her eyes, though it was quickly gone. Poor kid.

Shepard didn't lean closer, not wanting to spook her, but she did lower her voice. “This is just between you and me and Clara. I don't want anyone to find out and take advantage of you, okay? This is our secret. The three of us.”

“You're not gonna tell me no stealing or go to school?” Emi asked suspiciously, and Shepard hid a smirk.

“You do what you gotta do to survive. I'm just trying to help you do that. If you get into trouble, that Officer Vakarian seemed okay, didn't he?”

The dubious look Emi gave her finally cracked through the nervous little mouse attitude. “He's C-Sec,” she said harshly.

Shepard snorted a laugh, not bothering to hide it. “Yeah, what the hell was I thinking? He's C-Sec, of course. Gotta stay away from them. Okay. So, do we got a deal? You keep it a secret, and don't abuse my creds by coming in here and throwing a big old party for all your pals-” That got Emi to finally smile, ducking her head. “And I feed you twice a day so that I feel less bad about what an asshole I am.”

She didn't expect trust, but she also knew a hungry belly wanted filling. Boy did she ever. It might take her a week or two to come back here, but hopefully her hunger would eventually win and she'd realize Shepard was telling the truth.

Emi took a minute, glancing from her to the half-demolished food, and then back up again. The wariness in her eyes didn't fade, and Shepard didn't expect it would, but it was joined by something else now.

Hope.

Emi nodded.

“Nah, you gotta pinkie swear,” Shepard said, holding out her hand. It was stared at dubiously. “You don't know how to pinkie swear? You link your pinkies together, and shake your hands, and then cross your heart with your pinkie while you say the rhyme. With me, okay?”

Solemnly she extended her pinkie, waiting until Emi hesitantly took it. Nodding, Shepard curled her finger around the much smaller girl's, feeling the boniness of it as she recited slowly. “Pinkie swear, pinkie swear, I swear I will be true. If I lie, I testify, my pinkie goes to you.”

Emi recited awkwardly along with her until the last word, her hand stalling over crossing her heart. “W-what?”

“Yep, if you break your promise I get to chop off your finger,” Shepard said innocently, nodding her head. “But if I break mine you get to chop off mine.”

After she expected, after a moment of uncertainty, Emi's face cleared. She nodded firmly, and picked up her fork again. “Okay.”

“Cool, it's a deal,” Shepard agreed, leaning back in her seat. Kids would be kids-- most of them weren't afraid of a little gore. Especially not ones that'd been through all the shit Emi probably had.

While Emi demolished the remnants of her meal, Shepard rose and went to go sort things out with Clara. It wasn't a surprise when halfway through the setup, she glanced over her shoulder and the kid was gone and the plate was empty. Hopefully she'd come back.

It'd be nice to save someone instead of getting people killed for once.

Feeling guilt at having held things up wouldn't do a thing. Being awkward that she hadn't even had time to introduce herself to the crew, let alone the Spectre, would do even less. And yet, both lingered as Shepard settled into the crew quarters and got into her armor, listening to the announcements rolling overhead.

The fact that they'd headed for the relay the instant she and Anderson had hit the rendezvous only made her even more aware that she'd yet again been a liability.

Frantically leafing through the crew dossier, trying to memorize names, the singular familiar one was a relief every time she went past it.

Jeff Moreau. Good old Joker.

“Shepard?” Captain Anderson's voice crackled over comms.

“Sir. I'm heading to the bridge.”

“Spectre Nihlus is heading that way. Make sure you introduce yourself.”

“Yes sir,” she responded crisply, pushing her way past the automatic door. Armor meant business, and she kept her posture rigid as she navigated her way to the lift, nodding to people as she passed them. Names slid past her mind's eye, demanding she remember every one. That was a big part of the job. Remember everyone, greet everyone, know where their heads were at.

Listen to the things they didn't feel comfortable telling the captain.

Breathing in, breathing out, she let the names flicker by one by one, making sure she had them all down. Especially those she would have to command. Alenko. Jenkins. She was more familiar with their names, their records, because she needed to be. Not that they were supposed to face any trouble, but she didn't trust safe.

Not any more.

Emerging onto the bridge, a familiar voice rang out. “The Arcturus Prime relay is in range. Initiating transmission sequence.”

She passed by chairs, trying to put names to faces as they passed by, accepting a greeting with a brief clasp. A nod she could identify. Pressley, the navigator. Their eyes met, acknowledged, as she moved on.

Ahead she could see the Spectre, not hard to pick out on this vessel- standing waiting, not at a station, and Turian. She doubted he was as friendly as the C-Sec officer had been. The brusque nod she got as she came shoulder to shoulder with him all but confirmed it, as Jester's voice continued on.

“Spectre Nihlus.”

“Commander Shepard. Thank you for joining us.”

His low voice was impossible to read, she couldn't tell if it was a censure for being late or not. So she just nodded, kept it professional. Turians liked professional.

“Sir.”

Shepard waited in silence as the jump was completed and Nihlus took his leave, offering her another nod in departure. She identified Alenko easily, listening to him bantering with Joker with half a smile on her face. Seemed to have a decent working relationship already. Alenko did sound a little annoyed, but that was par for the course with Joker.

“But only an idiot believes the official story,” Joker said.

“You know, for someone who breaks so easily, you sure do like sticking your nose where it doesn't belong,” she finally said, and both of them startled, heads whipping around.

Shepard took a couple steps closer, leaning an arm on the back of Joker's chair. He laughed, instantly relaxing. She could feel Alenko's penetrating stare on the side of her face.

“That's rich coming from a soldier who can be defeated by my afternoon snack,” Joker said sarcastically.

“Sounds like you didn't get your afternoon _nap_ , Joker,” she said, and then glanced up with her most winning smile, meeting the dark eyes fixed on her. She could see it work. “Alenko.”

“Commander,” he said, with a pretty nice smile of his own. “Glad to see you've joined us.”

“And it's about time! Where the hell have you been?” Joker rolled his eyes at the look Alenko cast at him. “I'm not being insubordinate, it's called banter. The Commander and I go way back. We've got matching friendship hospital bracelets.”

“You know how it goes. I had to get cleared by every medical professional on the Citadel. I'm good, I'm ready. I've got a new rib,” she joked. When he raised an eyebrow at her, she grinned. “Part of a new rib. And a cool new scar.”

And a dead squad.

“Joker! Status report!” Captain Anderson's voice rang out from the console.

“Just cleared the mass relay, Captain. Stealth systems engaged. Everything looks solid.”

“Good. Find a comm buoy and link us into the network. I want mission reports relayed back to Alliance brass before we reach Eden Prime.”

“Aye aye, Captain. Better brace yourself, sir. I think Nihlus is headed your way,” Joker said.

“He's already here, Lieutenant,” Anderson said darkly, and Shepard hid an unbecoming 'snrk' behind her poker face. “Tell Commander Shepard to meet me in the comm room for a debriefing.”

The console beeped quietly as the call ended, and Shepard finally let out a quiet chuckle. Joker rolled his eyes. “You get that, Commander?”

“Yeah, my ears are still working. We'll catch up later. Sorry I couldn't get here earlier.”

“I was surprised you were assigned here at all, Commander,” Alenko said, pleasantly raspy voice holding a hint of concern. “Seems a bit early for you to be back out and at it.”

“Been digging in my file, Alenko?” she asked with an easy smile, despite the bristling his comment garnered. She hated having people question her fitness. There'd been too much of it lately.

“No ma'am. Just trying to get a feel for the people I'm going to be serving under.”

Not a bad answer. “Hmh. Well, it's just a shakedown.”

“Yeah, right,” Joker muttered.

“I'd best not keep the Captain waiting. Alenko. Joker.” She nodded to them both, flashed Joker a subtle wink, and turned on her heel to stride off.

As she made her way through curious glances and greeted the Navigator, it became clear that Joker's sentiment was near-universal. It wasn't difficult to tell this wasn't just a shakedown. Considering her own hasty assignment, though, Shepard was wondering just what the hell it had to do with _her_ specifically.

Unfortunately, her attempt to make it straight to the elevator was thwarted. A woman with short steel-gray hair intercepted her, pulling away from a conversation. Shepard tilted her head, trying to look busy.

“It won't take long, Commander. I'm Doctor Chakwas,” the woman greeted politely.

“Of course, Doctor.”

“I've received your medical supplies. I need to ensure, Commander, that if you are forced to use one of your injections, that you report it to me straightaway. I know you've been dealing with your issues quite well on your own for all this time, but I'm just here to make sure you stay as healthy as we can while serving here as XO.”

“It's a bit of a lengthy file to get through, huh?” she asked with a grimace, and the doctor chuckled easily. She didn't seem so bad. “I'll make sure to report it. I read the environmental reports on Eden Prime and I should be fine, but I'll make sure to keep my helmet on regardless.”

“Good. Come see me if you need anything at all.”

“Of course. Excuse me, I need to see the Captain,” Shepard said, inclining her head. The doctor nodded.

Well, that was fairly painless. And despite whatever they were hiding from her, the crew seemed sound, and Eden Prime was a dull little planet. On top of that, Captain Anderson and Joker were here, so at least it wasn't an all-new crew this time.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I'm starting an ME fic in the year of our lord almost 2021. so what? life is stressful! enjoy! :D


	2. Chapter 2

“...I think she's waking up.”

It happened with a start, pain flaring behind her eyelids and stabbing through her temples, only to fade away quickly to a dull background throb. Luckily the lights were low when her eyes slowly opened. Shepard hastily swung her legs over the side of the table, pulling herself up to rub the heels of her hands into her eye sockets.

Take stock.

In one piece?

She subtly shifted muscles, fingers twitching. Take stock. Two legs, two arms, one hurting head, eyes seeing stars and darkness, but functional. Deep breath, let it out. In one piece.

Confused memories swam through her head, machines, explosions and bodies and the rasp of a Turian voice. Voices? Oh god. Shit, shit, shit...

_Shit._

Nihlus was dead.

Jenkins was dead.

“You had us worried there, Shepard,” a barely familiar voice said. Head jerking up. she stared at Doctor Chakwas straightening up as she approached with an appraising look. “How are you feeling?”

Shepard took a second to breathe.

“Oh, you know,” she replied neutrally, and then idly kicked both legs and lifted both hands. She forced a smile onto her face she in no way felt. It looked genuine, it always did. “Four limbs, twenty digits, and a partridge in a pear tree.”

And a headache, stuffed nose, and a horribly bruised hip and ribcage.

And a dead Spectre.

Doctor Chakwas smiled. “Well, the sense of humor remains intact. You've been out for almost fifteen hours. Something happened down there with the beacon.”

The first voice spoke again, and when she glanced over, she realized it was Alenko. He looked distraught in the low light, but intact. Her eyes flickered over him, a habitual once-over. Yes, intact. “It's my fault. I must have...triggered a security field when I approached it. You had to push me out of the way.”

Right, she thought she remembered that. Still, not at all his fault, and she needed to get that thought out of his head. She was too tired for charm, so it had to be sarcasm.

“Ah yes, because we are highly trained Prothean experts who were thoroughly briefed about what would happen with the spooky beacon no one knew anything about,” Shepard said, grounding herself with the flippant banter, fighting the urge to rub her temples. She didn't want to be medicated any further than she already had been. “How dare you not anticipate everything that could go wrong, Alenko?”

He smiled, exhaling a faint laugh as he dropped his head.

Good.

Trying to recall the nightmare- no, the vision that she had was difficult, but there was a strange distance to it that helped her. She had to repeat it a few times, because apparently everyone needed to hear it, but each time a few more memories came back. Nihlus. Saren. The Geth. The beacon.

Man, that sure hadn't been just a shakedown.

She was relieved Anderson didn't hold it against her, and logically Shepard knew it wasn't even remotely something that could have been planned for. Geth? They were lucky they'd held their own, and on top of that, a rogue Spectre...no, it wasn't her fault, but damn if her gut and heart said otherwise.

When he let her go, she could tell by the pit in her stomach that she had to brave the mess.

Shepard avoided the Gunnery Chief they'd rescued, Williams, apart from a nod. Didn't quite know what to say to her yet, and Shepard knew she wasn't in good enough shape for a rousing speech after losing one of her own squad. If only she'd grabbed the idiot before he'd thrown himself out there like that. She knew he'd been too damn gung-ho. She should have known better.

Damn it.

When she went to go swipe one of her emergency ration bars, Alenko intercepted her. She nodded to him as she picked a bar out of the crate, turning it over. Unfortunately, vanilla, but that was just her lot in life. Food was rarely an enjoyable experience for her. Just fuel.

“Commander...”

“Hey, how are you holding up? That wasn't pretty.” she asked before he could get going.

“Never get used to seeing dead civilians. It doesn't seem right somehow,” Alenko said, eyes dropping from her. “But at least you stopped Saren from wiping out the whole colony.”

“I'm pretty sure you were there too,” she reminded him, and smile. “We. Not me.”

“Right. We're Marines, we stick together,” Alenko said, and his face fell. Shepard was dreading it, and her mind was already formulating an apology. “I just wish we could have saved Jenkins,” he said.

“I know, I should have been on point, I shouldn't have let him slip past me-”

“Hey, I was there,” he replied, interrupting her quickly. “You did everything right. It was just...bad luck.”

“Bad luck,” she laughed, and glanced down. It was hard to dredge up more energy for talking, but Alenko seemed to want to. So she made it through the pleasantries, talking about how both of their parents were military. His dad, her mom. Eventually she managed to slip away, unwrapping the barely-flavored ration bar.

Getting it down past the sinking in her stomach was painful, but possible.

Gnawing on it, she wandered back to the bridge, greeting people as she went. Her brain was too muddled for names, but she tried, clinging to the few she could, but smiling at every single one. Keep the smile up, and keep going.

Her head still hurt.

“Joker. Tell me something I like,” she demanded as she headed up to the dimly-lit bridge, claiming Alenko's chair tiredly. A familiar person to cling to. Man, she sure didn't feel like she'd just slept fifteen hours.

“Turian Warfare: Full Metal Carapace is getting a sequel, it's coming out next month,” Joker replied, glancing sidelong as she chowed away, stubbornly gnawing through the dense bar. “I know it's your favorite. You gonna kick my ass again? Fair warning, I've been working on my _skills_.”

Shepard managed a smile. “Yeah, but...who knows what's gonna happen? You think they're gonna keep me as XO after this? We're probably gonna get split up again.”

“Uh, you got blasted by some weird-ass Prothean artifact-- nobody could predict that. You're a fucking war hero, Shepard. On top of that, Captain's always got your back. Stop acting like every little bump in the road is gonna end with you being benched.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she denied, turning the end of the nutrient-dense bar over in her fingers. “Kind of hard when I have to run a whole obstacle course every time I get injured.”

Joker laughed humorlessly. “I hear ya there. But come on. This sexy ship? We need to keep flying her, huh? Don't give up on me now, I'm not losing this.”

Staring out through the window, she let out a shuddering sigh through her nose. Failure sunk in. She'd fucked up again. Would they give her a fucking medal for this failure, too? Good job, you survived.

People died.

“They were seeing if I was worth making a Spectre, and I- well, I sure screwed that up. I mean, I got Nihlus killed.” She knew it wasn't true, but she still had to say it.

“No, you didn't. Citadel incoming. Take in the view...” Joker's voice rose to a lazy peak, “...and relax.”

Letting out a long breath, she shoved the end of the barely-tasting bar in her mouth, chewing stubbornly as she watched the glittering, massive space station approach. It was incredible, awe-inspiring, as it always was. Joker brought them into the arms of the Citadel, directed by a pleasant artificial voice to their private dock.

“You know what happened, right?”

“Hmm?” Joker asked.

“I pushed the irony button.” He glanced briefly at her, and she grinned tiredly. “It's true. I was going to see Anderson and Nihlus for the briefing, and I thought 'nah, this is gonna be easy, it'll be just fine'. And then I walked in to a vid of everything going to shit.”

“Shepard! You _know_ better!” Joker said exasperatedly, making her laugh faintly. “Man, maybe this really is all your fault. Never push the irony button.”

“Thanks, Joker,” she sighed, glancing down to her omni-tool. Dragging up the account she'd set up with Clara for the little duct rat, she was pleased to see it'd been pinged twice since she'd been gone. Good.

Not everything had gone to shit.

The Council would listen to her about Saren, they had to. Then everything would work out, it'd be just--

“Oops. I did it again.”

“God damn it, Shepard.”

She hadn't realized that Williams and Alenko had never been to the Citadel.

It was hard to let them do their gawking when she was so on fire to get this over with. She'd never been good at waiting for confrontations. It made her too sick to sit on them. Bad report cards, fights at school, debriefings-- it didn't matter how old she got, she still had to deal with them immediately.

By now her head was clear enough that she could manage to put up a good front, smiling and joking despite the runaround they were given before finally being able to speak to the Council. Man, she did not like Udina. It hadn't escaped her notice that the Captain didn't seem terribly fond of him either, but she wasn't stupid enough to bring it up.

When they finally made it to the Council chamber, only a shockingly familiar voice could have stopped her forward march.

“Saren's hiding something! Give me more time! Stall them.”

The Turian she could see as she approached, unarmored, with striking pale blue facial markings, scoffed. “Stall the Council? Don't be ridiculous. Your investigation is over, Garrus.”

Then it was him, after all. C-Sec Officer Vakarian. Looking into something about Saren? Well, what a coincidence. The other Turian walked away, and Shepard smiled lopsidedly to herself.

“The enemy of my enemy, Vakarian Garrus Vakarian?” she asked with a half-smile. He spun to face her, confused for a moment, though it quickly faded.

“Commander Shepard. Yes, I'm the C-Sec officer assigned to investigate Saren.”

“Investigate a Spectre? Sounds like that's a good way to end up ass-deep in 'classified'. Getting stonewalled, huh?” she kept her voice light, but he sure was a lot more grim than last time they'd met. Understandably.

“You could say that,” he agreed, glancing away. “You could definitely say that.”

“Yeah. Hey, I've got-”

“I think the Council is ready for us, Commander,” Kaidan interrupted her.

She kept her smile easy, though a small spike of annoyance rose. She really wasn't a big fan of being interrupted. Well, maybe there would be time to find out more about his investigation after.

“Good luck, Shepard. Maybe they'll listen to you,” Garrus said ruefully.

He seemed surprised when she stepped in and extended her hand, but after the moment's hesitation he nodded, stepping in to meet her. They clasped forearms, a quick, friendly gesture. She returned the nod, and cuffed his shoulder lightly as she stepped past him.

“Keep your chin up, Vakarian.”

His faintly puzzled 'what?' as she headed around the fountain made her smile. It was the last smile she had for a while, that was for sure. That damn irony button. Ruined everything.

It would have been nice if Captain Anderson had told her from the get-go that he had a past with Saren. It would have been nice if she'd known Saren was going to be there. It would have been nice to know a lot of things before she walked in there like an idiot and got summarily cut down to size. It was hard to control a situation when you didn't have the details.

Evidence. They wanted some damn evidence, then fine. She would find some for them. Luckily she knew a guy. Sort of.

It was hard not to seethe and bitch and throw a tantrum, but everyone else was angry enough. Getting pissed wouldn't solve anything. So she kept her cool, left the Council and their bullshit behind, and dealt with the skeevy C-Sec guy long enough to get Garrus' location.

“This guy better have something we can use,” Williams asked as she double-timed them to the clinic.

“Enemy of my enemy, Williams. Besides, I haven't had a bad encounter with him yet,” she replied, filing that unnecessary comment with the other commentary she'd been adding to her brain-file of the Gunnery Chief. Distaste for aliens- especially Turians- wasn't uncommon among Humans, but she'd really rather not deal with it in her crew.

Besides, Shepard still didn't know how to manipulate them properly yet, she needed more practice and time to get their body language down. Asari were easy, Salarians were pretty obvious, too, but Turians were an intriguing challenge. And then there were Elcor, who just went and told you how they were feeling.

Handy, that.

Noise echoed down the corridor as they approached the clinic, and Shepard's double-time became an all-out run, pistol in hand. She caught sight of Garrus taking the flank, so she went for the front door to give him time to get into position. She flung herself into the doorway, pistol up, finding the doctor already facing down a nasty looking asshole. The bastard turned towards her, jerking the poor terrified doc around and bringing up a gun.

“Who are you?!”

“Relax,” Shepard replied, sighting down her gun. “Just let her go and we can t-”

In a burst of red, the guy's skull collapsed in a single shot and he fell, releasing the doctor. Shepard jolted forward, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her back to the doorway, out of harm's way. Alenko and Williams got her down and got between the doc and the firefight, which was too close, too crowded, and too quick. Vakarian was a good shot.

They made short work of the thugs, the last one going down when she lithely vaulted a crate and took him down with her knees to his chest, slamming him to the floor. One shot, fight over, leaving her panting for breath as she collapsed to her ass on top of the body. At the sound of a heavy throat-clear, she glanced up.

“I hate to interrupt your little tryst here, but...” Garrus extended a hand down to her and she took it, letting him haul her to her feet. “You had perfect timing, Shepard. Gave me a clear shot at that bastard.”

She squeezed his arm once, though she doubted he could feel it through the heavy C-Sec armor, and released him. “It was a good shot.”

“You're not half bad yourself. Cute gun,” he remarked with a cocky lilt.

“Didn't anyone ever tell you it's not the size of the gun that matters, Vakarian?”

Kaidan cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Garrus?”

“Doctor Michel? Are you hurt?” He turned and paced back to the entry to find her, Shepard following.

A quick once-over proved she was intact, to Shepard's relief. She turned away from Williams to face them. Williams was still eyeing Garrus, which bothered Shepard more than it had before-- maybe she'd send her back to the ship.

“No. I'm okay, thanks to you. All of you,” the doctor confirmed.

“Do you know who those men were, Doctor?” Shepard asked, and then glanced sidelong to Vakarian, lowering her voice. “Sorry.”

He shook his head and gestured to her-- a pretty obvious 'go ahead'.

Well, at least he wasn't going to get techy about her butting into his investigation.

Shepard had trouble not taking the lead.

His first impression seemed accurate-- Commander Shepard was pretty easy to get along with.

Not Garrus' usual experience with humans, and the other two of them on her squad seemed to fit the stereotype fine. But not her. She was as pleasant as she had been when trying to charm him into leaving that little kid alone, but now he got to witness her turning that effortless charm on other people.

He wasn't sure it'd worked on Wrex, but that was a Krogan for you. They preferred a punch in the nose to a smile. It'd definitely worked on the Quarian, though, who seemed to instantly trust Shepard.

Then again, so had he.

It helped that she dismissed the one of her people that'd been giving him nasty looks.

It made sense she was the first human Spectre candidate. He scanned her public records on his visor as they traveled. Her service was impressive as she was, and she'd started young for a Human-- career military. Not brusque or battle-hardened, though. He'd noticed she went for disabling more often than not when they'd cut through Fist's men, except when backed into a corner like they had been in the clinic. Then she showed no mercy.

And she definitely didn't follow Turian military tactics.

She was hard to anticipate with how much she _moved_ , and while it was a little frustrating to deal with, he at least hadn't accidentally shot her yet. Humans sure could jump. Maybe he'd learn how to anticipate her in time.

_In time?_

An unexpected thought, and he turned it over while they headed back to the Human Ambassador's with Tali'zorah in tow.

Where was his head at? Sure he wanted to take that bastard Saren down, but his thoughts right now leaned in a direction that would derail his career. He couldn't be thinking like that. True, he hadn't really wanted the career in the first place, but-

He snapped back to as Tali played the recording.

It should have felt like vindication, but it didn't. All it did was make him feel sick. Saren, a traitor. A shame to Turians everywhere. But at least they had something to take to the Council.

As they returned to the tower where he'd been turned away earlier, Shepard gave him another of those little cuffs to his shoulder. It rocked him out of his head, and he glanced down. She smiled, easily expressive face relaxed and confident. It was comforting.

“You're trapped in there,” she said, pointing to his forehead.

“I'm angry,” he admitted, and she nodded with a softening of her dark eyes. Humans were enough like Asari that it wasn't tough to figure out how she was feeling, but- “I'm not really looking for sympathy, Shepard. I just want them to actually listen this time.”

“Not sympathy, just understanding,” she corrected him, and smiled. It was an easy, relaxed smile, so much so that it almost annoyed him. “I'm angry too. Very angry.”

Oh.

“You could have fooled me.”

“Yeah, that's the point,” she muttered under her breath, and then shook her head before he could ask what she meant. “Last time I was unprepared. I shouldn't have ever expected them to take me at my word, that was naive. I thought it was important enough that they would care, but-”

“Good luck convincing them even this is important,” he said, bitterness seeping into his voice.

“We will,” she corrected him confidently, slapping his arm. “We will, Garrus.”

Weirdly, it helped. They shared a nod, and he felt himself returning her smile, almost reflexively. From behind him, Wrex snorted.

“Keelah, why is every elevator in the Citadel so slow?” Tali interrupted, exasperated.

“You wanna hack it?” Shepard said impishly, flashing the Quarian a smile. “It'd be one way to end this.”

“What, with me arresting you?” Garrus asked, and they laughed. Well, except for Alenko, who seemed uncomfortable. Not bad in a fight, but definitely standoffish. And definitely spent a lot of time staring at his Commander when she wasn't looking at him.

“Seems a natural progression after the past couple days,” she sighed, and for a second the smile dropped.

The doors opened, and before anything else could be said the smile was back and she lifted her chin, confidence returning effortlessly. Lifted her- ah. That was what that idiom had meant.

“Keep your chin up, Shepard,” he said as he stepped out after her, and he heard her laugh.

Smiling, he followed after her, glancing down as Tali caught up with him, Alenko brushing past them to trail directly behind his commander. “I like her,” Tali confided to him, and he chuckled.

“She seems to be an easy person to like, for a human,” he agreed. “I haven't had the greatest run-ins with them while working for C-Sec. Hell, even the ones _in_ C-Sec can be downright antagonistic.”

“More walking, less ass kissing,” Wrex grumbled.

“Why are you still following her, Wrex?” he replied, rather than rising to the bait. It was hard to hide his grin when the Krogan tilted his head to the side and glared at him.

“Because I haven't found a reason to stop yet.”

“He likes her too,” Garrus told Tali, who giggled.

Wrex just snorted, and then they were pacing up the stairs, and there was nothing else to say. It didn't escape Garrus' notice that Alenko had chosen to stand at the back of the platform, so that they would either have to push past him or stay below. From Wrex's repeated, more disgusted snort, he'd noticed the same.

It was easy enough to hear the discussion, but it still felt like a pointed move to shut them out.

Hopefully not from Shepard. It'd be pretty rotten to play nice just long enough to get what she wanted from them. Then again, in the elevator she had been pretty damn clear that fooling people was 'the point'. Was this what she meant?

Playing friendly just to manipulate them?

He listened to the Councilors bickering, with the quiet background of Tali's dismayed remarks. He wasn't surprised that they were focusing on Saren and ignoring the Reaper 'threat' that Shepard seemed to be insisting on. Saren made the Council look bad. Simple as that.

The idea of Reapers being real, let alone a threat was far too big to consider.

People would be in a panic.

When Udina demanded a fleet to protect the human colonies Garrus laughed under his breath, meeting Wrex's head-shake with a nod of his own. Absolutely no way. The solution was simple and elegant, and that's why he assumed there was no way the Council would choose it, until...they did. Huh.

“Well, what do you know?”

It sounded like Shepard was a Spectre. It also sounded, very briefly, as if she was terrified of that fact. It was such a small stammer and spike of discomfort in her voice that if she wasn't always so collected and confident he wouldn't have noticed it.

Well, it was a lot of responsibility.

Still, wasn't that why she'd started her whole mission in the first place? To be tested as a Spectre? So why be afraid of it?

Glancing up, he noted the crowd watching as the Councilors recited the formal ceremony. It'd be everywhere in no time. Especially if anyone was recording, which...they usually were. A Spectre for the Human Alliance. A big deal.

Bound to make some people mad.

He still wasn't sure if he was supposed to be mad or not, but it was a surprising relief when Alenko shifted aside and he heard Shepard speak.

“Where are-” She paused at the top of the stairs, staring down at them, and blinked. Abruptly she laughed, padding down the stairs two at a time in a quick bounce. “Hey, I thought you'd left me. Sorry! I should have figured maybe you wouldn't want to be under the microscope up there.”

“Your soldier blocked us,” Wrex replied, blunt as ever.

“He-” There was a tightening of the corners of her eyes, in the line of her jaw. It rippled across her expression, and then she relaxed. When she spoke again, it was quieter. “I'm sorry, It won't happen again. You have my word.”

“I don't care,” Wrex said, crossing his arms.

Shepard smiled, lopsided. “I ah- of course you don't. I have a lot to talk about with Captain Anderson and the Admiral, but-”

“I want to come with you,” Garrus found himself saying, before he realized he was going to. Clearing his throat, he straightened up. “Shepard. I have to see this through. I need to take down Saren.”

Her smile softened, and she nodded her head. Relief flooded through him. “I respect that you know your own mind, Vakarian. If there's anything I can do to help mitigate any consequences of coming with me, let me know.” She shifted her gaze from him, to Wrex, and then Tali. “What about you? I would be honored to fight with you both. Tali'Zorah, I know defeating the Geth is important to you, and Wrex...” For a second she looked uncertain.

“I'll go,” Wrex said simply. “Might find something worth fighting.”

“An opportunity like this doesn't come along every day. I'll get my things, Shepard. Where will we be meeting you?” Tali asked brightly.

“I, ah-” Shepard looked uncertain, shifting aside as Captain Anderson and the Admiral brushed past her. She tilted her head at them.

“We have some things to discuss and arrange,” Anderson said, nodding to Shepard. “Do whatever you need to prepare, and then meet us at Dock four-twenty-two in three hours.”

“Yes, sir,” Shepard said with a nod, and then glanced at them. Alenko was still hovering on the stairs behind her, face unreadable. “Will that be enough time?”

“It'll have to be,” he said, nodding to her. “Congratulations, Specter Shepard.”

This time he could see her face and the widening of her eyes, her smile going still, stiff. Fear. She gave a small laugh and nodded her head to him, voice quietly in control. “Thank you. It's an honor. What more could I want?”

Before he could think of what to say, she nodded to them all and set off, wrapping her arms around herself, hands holding her elbows.

No, she didn't seem happy at all.


	3. Chapter 3

Shepard was doing her best not to feel hurt, but it was difficult.

She wished she'd known from the start that Anderson had recommended her to be a Spectre after he'd...well, failed at it.

“It be nice if you'd said something,” she admitted to Anderson, and then shook her head. “But I understand why you didn't. I feel a little awkward, though, stepping into your command, and almost...into your boots, I guess.”

“Don't let it go to your head,” Anderson said, and they shared a smile. He reached out and clasped her upper arm. “You can't hide it from me. I know you're not thrilled about this, but remember. We rise to the rank that we need to. That we're needed to.”

“Yes, sir,” she said regretfully, shoulders slumping. “Well, at least I get your room now.”

“Rank has its privileges. You've got a good crew, even with the new additions.”

“I have a good crew, _especially_ with my new additions,” she replied firmly, meeting his eyes.

He smiled faintly, eyes crinkling at the corners. The hand that landed on her shoulder was warm, anchoring. He held her, arm and shoulder, secure. “I'm not arguing with that. Just be aware that it will cause more challenges than only running a human crew. You can't be blind to any issues that pop up. You need to keep everyone on task and as harmonious as possible, for the sake of your mission.”

“Yes, sir,” she agreed, remembering when she'd turned from the platform to find all the non-humans who had aided her waiting at the bottom. It made for an uncomfortable sort of image. She didn't want that kind of bullshit on her ship. “You know how much I love making things more complicated for myself.”

“I do. Stay healthy, stay sane. Take care of yourself, Faith. That's an order. I know it's not ideal, but they need you at your best, and that means not self-sacrificing because you're afraid of inconveniencing people. Take up space.”

Shepard smiled, ducking her head. “Yes, sir. Thanks. I'll see you soon, I'll bring you a present. How's a rogue Spectre sound?”

He clapped her on the arm again, and she stepped back. “That sounds great.”

Shepard nodded, and turned to board the-

No, her ship.

Letting out a deep breath, she paced up the gangway, trying not to let her nerves get the best of her. People were depending on her, and no matter what she thought of her own capabilities or record, this had been decided and she needed to rise to the occasion. Or else.

When she came on board she realized her new crew were waiting for her with their things. Or at least, Tali had things. It seemed like Garrus and Wrex mostly just had weaponry. As she fiddled with her omni-tool, she tilted her head to get them to follow her. “I'll get you set up with sleeping pods and lockers,” she said, rather than bothering anyone to do it. “Joker!”

The call she'd just rung up crackled to life with a laugh, rough and ragged. “Commander!”

“I got you your fucking ship! Now what are you gonna do for me?”

Wrex chuckled roughly, and she flashed a wink sidelong at Tali, who giggled.

“I'm gonna fly it, ma'am! Better than anyone in the galaxy!”

“You're goddamn right you are,” she agreed, and then heaved a sigh. “Meet you soon for dinner?”

“If you wanna call that sad shit you eat dinner. Joker out.”

The call ended.

“Ah- speaking of,” Garrus said hesitantly.

“Rations suitable for you and Tali are being loaded now,” she assured him, and smiled at his relieved sigh. “Sorry to make you worry. I know what I'm getting into. If there's anything I'm forgetting, let me know now. Special healthcare stuff, whatever. I assume the Ambassador has it all handled, though.”

“Medi-gel works on us just fine,” Garrus assured, and then hesitated. “Ah- does your doctor know much about dealing with non-humans?”

“We'll check in with her when we go down to set up your equipment lockers,” she promised, flashing a smile. “I've got to check things out down there anyways.”

It was simple enough to get them set up with sleeping pods, even if Wrex seemed dubious about it. She didn't care if he used it, but it was important that it be assigned. Shepard kept up the easy chatter, trying to make them comfortable. Anderson's words were still ringing in her ears. She was on high alert, hoping against hope that Williams had just been on edge in an unfamiliar environment. That Alenko had just been protective.

That none of it meant the people she felt she needed to bring onboard would be treated poorly.

Why she'd felt so strongly about bringing them, though? Well...she wasn't exactly Alliance any more, was she? A Council Spectre was an entirely different thing. They weren't saving the human race.

They were saving the galaxy.

“Unfortunately, the ship is a Turian design,” she remarked as they found the elevator to take down to the medbay and storage.

“And what's wrong with that?” Garrus asked, guarded.

“The elevators are slow,” Shepard replied, but to Tali.

“I wonder if we can do something about it. I'll look into it, Shepard,” Tali mused, laughter bubbling over her voice as Garrus eyed them.

“Don't need to be fast to get the job done.” This time there was humor in his voice, at least.

Oh, he should know better than to leave an opening like that. “That must make you popular with the Turian ladies,” Shepard quipped, and this time even Wrex laughed, a gravelly chuckle.

She saw his mandibles twitch, just a little, breaking the stoic facade. “I don't hear any complaints.”

“Ah, so that's why you want to check in with the doctor,” Shepard said innocently, trying not to burst out laughing. “To get your hearing checked.”

She basked in the laughter, stepping out of the elevator as the doors slid back open. She'd needed it, needed to feel secure and in control again. Storage was busy, things being arranged and loaded. She'd forgotten how much crew she was in charge of; it was hard not to be intimidated.

“Now I see why you brought me on board,” Garrus said thoughtfully, but when she glanced up and over at him he was smiling. At least that Turian expression she could read. “For the witty banter.”

“Shit, Garrus, it sure wasn't for your aim,” she retorted.

His voice took on a slow, drawling sarcasm. “Yes, very funny. Very very funny. I'll remember that next time I'm at your six. That is, if I can find it with you bouncing all over the place. Cover. Heard of it?”

“Can't be sniped if you're right in their face.”

“Well, you might be able to hit them from a distance if you found yourself a grown-up gun.”

Shepard cracked a grin and shook her head.

“You two are a lot of fun,” Tali said, voice humming with delight. “This is so exciting. I've never been on a ship like this before. The stealth system alone--”

“Feel free to check it out. Just don't go getting your hands on things without clearance,” Shepard invited as they headed down into the space, buzzing with activity. She led them to the lockers, assigning them each one, linked to their omni-tools. While she was busy settling Wrex, Tali disappeared.

When she blinked and glanced around wildly, Garrus chuckled. “She saw engineering. You did offer...”

“Ah. Well, I'm sure I'll hear about it if she bothers anyone. Doc?” she tilted her head, giving Wrex an absent clap on the shoulder as he unloaded his battered bag into the locker.

Wrex grunted, but considering Shepard got away with the physical contact, she considered it a win. Garrus paced beside her as they made for medical, eyes constantly on the swivel. No doubt checking things out with his visor. She kept meaning to get one, they were handy.

“What do you think?”

“It's a beautiful ship, Shepard. Top of the line. Nice ground vehicle, too. Mind if I take a look at it some time?”

It was good to hear him sounding more relaxed. Maybe the teasing had helped. She nodded and smiled, lifting a shoulder. “We don't have anyone assigned specifically to the Mako, feel free. Hopefully we'll be through this quickly, but-”

“Can never be too careful,” Garrus said, following her into medical.

Doctor Chakwas was in, dictating the delivery of some supplies. She glanced up when they entered, blinking a bit as she took in Garrus. Top to talons. “Well, that explains some of this manifest,” she said, glancing back down at the datapad in her hand.

Shepard laughed. “Yes, sorry, I've brought on some extra crew to help me with ground missions and to lend their perspective and talents. Officer Vakarian...”

“Just Garrus,” he said, waving a hand. His chuckle was pleasant. “I don't know that I get to call myself 'officer' right about now.”

“Right, sorry. I'm gonna take my daily, Doctor. Vakarian just wanted to make sure you were up for patching up the folks I've brought on board. Turian, Quarian, Krogan,” Shepard said, crossing to the cabinet that held her supplies.

“Of course. I'd be happy to discuss it, Garrus, to lay to rest any worries you might have. Shepard, are you still suffering from the atmosphere on Eden Prime?” Doctor Chakwas asked.

Of course she'd noticed.

“Sinuses clear, Doc. Citadel's got nice filtered air, usually clears things up,” Shepard said, not bothering to hide it. Everyone on the crew would learn what a disaster she was eventually. “Just worried that with all the stuff coming in, there's gonna be a lot of dust and possible contaminants.” She deftly injected herself with the disposable, the miniscule needle barely stinging, leaving behind a tiny red mark. Even the big ones didn't feel like much any more. She dropped the empty sharp into the disposal, and then grabbed a bottle of her pills, shaking one out.

She could feel Vakarian's eyes on her.

“It's good to be careful. So! Garrus. A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I'm Doctor Chakwas.”

“Good to meet you, Doctor,” Garrus said.

“I'm going to duck out, I need to chat with Alenko before dinner. Vakarian, you need anything at all, just call me.” Shepard said, lifting a hand as she slipped away.

“You got it, Shepard.”

“Shepard,” Doctor Chakwas said, pausing her briefly. “There should be space in storage to have your mats set out. Should I direct someone to?”

Pleasantly surprised, Shepard paused with a smile. Anderson's orders were still in her head, so she probably should follow them. She wasn't inconveniencing anyone. “Sure, might as well. People can use it as a sparring ring too, I guess.”

She had an itching need to get out of the weight she was bearing and exhaust herself so she could actually sleep.

“Certainly, make more work for me in broken noses and scraped knuckles,” Doctor Chakwas said with warm amusement, and then nodded at her lifted hand, turning back to Garrus.

Shepard could feel his curious stare following her.

Alenko wasn't hard to find, she'd barely come out of the elevator on the crew deck when she ran into him.

He straightened up as he caught sight of her, and she waved off his attempt at a salute. It just made her uncomfortable. She knew he was Alliance through and through, but...

“This is a Spectre op now, Lieutenant Alenko, I don't need that.”

“This is still an Alliance ship, ma'am, and so am I,” he said, predictably. When she huffed a sigh, he smiled his nice smile, relaxing a little. “Sorry, ma'am. I'll try to remember. Must feel strange to go so quickly from XO to Captain.”

“Commander. It's the rank I've earned,” she sighed, smiling a little at his sympathetic grimace. “Listen, Lieutenant-”

“Kaidan's fine, ma'am.”

“Shepard's fine, Alenko,” she retorted. They both eyed each other for a moment, and then they both chuckled, heads dropping. “Shit, we suck at this,” she sighed.

“We really do. Shepard, then.”

“Al-” At his warning look, she rolled her eyes. “Kaidan, then. I need to talk to you about what happened in the Citadel tower.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, pleasant voice an easy rasp as he leaned against the console, arms folding.

“If you've got issue with me adding non-human crew to this ship, we really need to discuss it. I need people I can trust, and-”

“Non-human?” he asked, puzzled.

“I'm sure you realized when you kept them from following us up to face the Council how it looked to them, Kaidan,” she said, and then paused when his face fell. Seconds ticked by, and Shepard let them-- she let it sink in. Finally, she broke the silence. “You didn't. You didn't realize you blocked the only non-humans?”

“No, ma'am,” he said, and she let it slide. He dropped his head, scratching at his hairline. “I didn't- no, I didn't think that. It was more that they weren't Alliance, Shepard. I mean- you'd only just met them, and after Eden Prime...”

She reached out and clasped his upper arm reassuringly, giving it a squeeze. Their eyes met again. Shepard forced her voice earnest, intimate, trying to drive it home. “I don't need to be protected, Kaidan. Your intentions were good, but it looked bad.”

“You're right ma'am,” he said, and smiled at the narrow look she gave him. “Give me a little leeway, huh? I'm trying. If you want me to apologize, I'll be happy to. I just want to support you, our mission is important. If you need them here, we all need them here.”

“I want you to try and read the room.” Forcing someone to apologize never really went well, even if he did feel bad over it. Leaving it up to him was the wise choice. “If they seem offended, reach out. Make it right. Not because I order you to, but because you want to-- because you want us all to figure out a way to work together.”

“You're right,” Kaidan said, much to her overwhelming relief. Shepard tried to keep it from her face. “Okay, Shepard. Thanks for talking to me. I'm not used to working with non-humans. You're right, we've gotta be careful not to screw it up.”

“No one said saving the universe would be easy,” she said, and smiled. Their eyes met, his dark and thoughtful, the smile fading from the corner of his mouth. It seemed like he had something to say, but when Joker's 'yo' rang out, he just shook his head and stepped back.

She nodded, and stepped past Alenko, lifting a hand. That had been painless. Her gratitude to Alenko for being reasonable was through the roof right about now. Also her tolerance for solving problems was rock bottom. “Joker! I told you, didn't I? I'd get you your goddamn ship.”

Spreading her hands wide as she approached in a slow saunter, she grinned as Joker scoffed and took a seat.

“It was _me_ that told _you_ , Commander. You were too busy freaking out.”

“Not in front of the crew!” She protested loudly enough for everyone to hear, gesturing to those already seated and eating. There were some chuckles. Good, that's what she wanted. “All right, I'll nuke your slop. What's your poison?”

“Wow, the Commander serving me personally. I'm coming up in the world. Whatever's got the apple pie desert.”

“Gross,” Shepard remarked under her breath, going to pick out Joker's rations to warm up, making sure not to actually touch any of the food. She picked out a bar from the crate for herself, after making sure they were levo and not dextro. Then she added a second one. If her mats were out, she wanted to take advantage and not get scolded for undereating.

The doctor seemed really okay, though, which was good considering how much she needed to deal with her. She could deal with a few unpleasant crew. An unpleasant doctor would not work at all.

By the time she served Joker and settled down, people were gathering. There was a lot of chatter. To be fair, a new commanding officer and a whole-ass new mission would do that, especially with an altered crew. She felt a little guilty for shaking things up when they'd just gotten settled, but she couldn't indulge it.

The mission was too important.

She wasn't surprised when neither Wrex nor Tali managed to brave the human-heavy crowd, but she was pleasantly surprised that Garrus did. When he hesitated at the edge of the corridor, glancing across the busy room, she lifted a hand to him. Her foot had been waiting hopefully on a seat, which she kicked out.

Still scanning the room, he stalked his way across.

It didn't escape her notice how many stares there were, and the few people who skittered out of his way. She doubted it escaped his, either. It was hard to avoid the knowledge that he just moved different than everyone else, cutting through like a shark in a fish tank. When he approached, she gestured with her bar to the seat.

“I don't know what suits your ass, but if you have special butt needs, just let us know and we'll get a chair bought,” she said, rising to her feet. “Can I warm you up a meal? If the levo is any indication, it's barely palatable.”

“Thank you, Commander, for thinking of my ass. And...thanks, I'd appreciate it. Might as well start getting used to rations again,” Garrus said with a crackle of humor, sinking down into the chair. While he and Joker eyed each other, she pulled down a random meal from the newly-marked cabinet, looking it over to make sure.

Double checking everything that was meant to go in a mouth was second nature.

Normally she wouldn't get people food at all, but having gotten Joker's dinner, it felt like the right move to get Garrus' as well. Even the playing field. She couldn't favor her one actual friend onboard, it was important to put the non-humans on the same playing field.

Pulling out the tray, she was grateful it came with utensils, because she was pretty sure the ship didn't have Turian ones. Despite being Turian designed, the humans had settled in pretty heavily into the Normandy. Still, some things about the design bothered her even yet.

Sliding the meal the Garrus, she plopped back into her seat, slipping disinfectant gel from her pocket to wipe over her hands before she picked up her bar again. “I gotta ask, why the hell do you put your command center so far back? Why do you not want to be up in the front?”

Garrus glanced over, dubiously, “me?”

“Turians,” she said, and then laughed and sighed. “Right, generalizing, sorry. I mean the design of the ship.”

“Our Captains like to be in the middle of shit, up front at the helm,” Joker said, poking at his food, hunched over the table.

“And ours like being able to command everything, not just enjoy the view,” Garrus said. The conversation might have been fraught if not for his easy voice. Shepard was blindingly grateful for it.

“It is a pretty good view, though, especially coming in to the Citadel?” Joker said, shaking his head slowly. “Amazing.”

“You're the pilot?” Garrus asked, and Joker confirmed with a cocky nod, mouth full. “I wasn't aware Alliance regulations were so lax.” It made Joker bristle, but she could hear the humor in the raspy undertone of his voice.

Shepard laughed before it could get too tense, resting her elbows on the table and gesturing to herself with the bar. “Citadel Spectre, not Alliance. I talk to my crew how I want, and I'd rather people talk to me the way they want.”

“Oh please, you're military through and through. Jump? How high, sir? Yes, sir!” Joker mocked her.

The engineer sitting down from Joker hid a chuckle behind her hand, turning it into a cough. Shepard just grinned, chewing off another corner of the bar, forcing it down. She should have grabbed a bottle of water. Ugh.

“Not a fan of the Alliance rations?” Garrus asked, lifting his fork in a gesture.

“Allergic to them, actually.” It had to come out eventually, but man did she ever get tired of explaining herself, over and over. At least gossip often took care of spreading it around. “Allergic to most things.” She gestured with her bar to his food. “One bite of that? I'd be lucky if I made it to the Doctor. Airways would close up, full-body rash, probably go into cardiac arrest.”

She hid a smirk when Garrus glanced down, and then nudged his tray a little further away from her. Like it would help or something. “You didn't have to get it for me, Shepard.”

“Yeah, I did,” she replied quietly.

“What, they can't get alternative rations for a freaking Spectre? I get it when you were XO, but...”

She glanced up at Joker, shaking her head lightly. “I didn't ask. Not going to, either. These are fine. No worry about cross-contamination this way.”

“I'm sure we can at least find you some mango sorbet or something. That was your favourite, wasn't-” Joker stopped at her wince, and gave a disbelieving laugh. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. Hold on, lemme see if I remember,” she said. It was bitterness as much as it was humor, but she'd been dealing with this so long that the two were pretty much always twisted up together. “Confirmed reactivity to...banana, kiwi, avocado...”

“Avocados, too?! That sucks. Big time.”

“Apples, carrots, and celery-- there goes Thanksgiving. Mangoes, pineapples, all citrus now. Coconuts, aaaand...” She finished with a theatrical flourish, “chickpeas.”

“How bad is it?” Joker asked sympathetically.

“Mild reaction right now except to avocados according to the tests, but you know how it-” Garrus' curious look had her explaining- “allergies develop, especially for me. So even though it's a mild reaction, every time I consume something on my laundry list of 'do nots', there's a good chance I level up. Only in this case leveling up means 'possibly dying'.”

“One question,” Garrus said, and she fought the urge to sigh. There was always 'one more' question. Always. He leaned towards her, head tilting to the side, and she forced herself to keep a pleasant expression. “What's a laundry list?”

Annoyance evaporating, Shepard laughed.

A sound summoned Garrus from his survey of the Mako, echoing. A melodic descent, hard and pointed, but simple in scale. Music? It wasn't familiar.

He was approaching before he realized, steps falling in a rhythm that suddenly rippled through the floor, through the air. Bass heavy. A voice lilting in a rasping cadence, rising and falling.

He hadn't had much exposure to Human music.

It was powerful.

The brutal simplicity of the melody and pounding rhythm made a backdrop for complex vocals that his translator picked out as he approached the source. Unconsciously his head started moving. It was far harsher than Asari music, which tended to be favored. Asari music was soothing, or designed for dance.

This was raw as an exposed nerve.

It screamed.

As he moved between crates, hunting the new sensation, a light spilled over exposed skin through a break in the wall of empty crates waiting to be offloaded. Bathed in the glare like a spotlight, Shepard stood in the center of a field of padded blue matting, wearing not much of anything. A single black garment, hugging her skin, cut high over her hips, cut low on the back. Legs and arms bared, speckled by her pale markings. Her reddish hair- he always forgot how effortlessly Humans could change the way they looked- had been pulled out of its plait she'd worn it in, and was twisted up now at the back of her head in a knot.

He wasn't modest, but Humans seemed to be. But here was his new commanding officer wearing basically nothing, in the middle of storage, slim waist and graceful hips exposed. Humans were complicated, apparently. The music certainly was.

Was she dancing?

Odd place for it.

The beat thudded down his core as she stood at a corner of the mat at the shadowy edge. Shepard bounced on her toes, and then she launched herself forward into a run. Three steps and she launched toward the ceiling. A high light gleamed over the knife-like angle of her body. If he'd thought she could jump before...he'd known nothing.

She spun in the air, weightless, effortless.

No, she wasn't dancing.

She was flying.

Landing only launched her onwards, and she went legs over head in a tightly-controlled flip three times in a row. She didn't touch a finger to the mat for any of them. When she landed at last it was with her legs completely spread. He winced instinctively at the stretch of her bare thighs as they slapped into the mat.

He'd seen similar feats from Asari, but never to this extent.

“We coulda had the gold medal,” Joker said from behind him, amused. The Pilot trundled forward, adjusting his hat as Garrus startled.

He still felt oddly like a voyeur. It felt private. Sure wasn't a private place, though. More gawkers were wandering over. At least he wasn't gawking alone.

“...what?” Garrus asked uncertainty. Out of the corner of his vision, Shepard pulled herself out of the splits on her hands, legs pointing to the distant ceiling. Flawlessly graceful.

“Gold medal,” a raspy voice said, a figure emerging out of the darkness.

He was framed by humans now, Joker on his left, Alenko on his right. A few more of the crew were craning their necks curiously, finding another break in the crates. He definitely preferred Joker-- his spines were familiar. Alenko was staring a bit too intently at his Commander as she threw herself feet over head across the mat in time to the music. She soared. Weightless.

“On Earth we have a planet-wide sports competition. This is one of them-- gymnastics,” Joker said, laughing. “She was gonna compete, but she had some health problems. And then she chose military over Olympics. That's what we call the competition. The Olympics.”

“But she's still incredible,” Alenko said, breathless.

Shepard spun on one foot, other leg stretched over her head so high that he wasn't sure he actually knew how their joints worked after all. It was strangely beautiful, strange and beautiful. The music slowed and so did she. Maybe it was dancing after all, or a sort of it.

The fatalistic, negative song was an odd choice, humming in his head in its translation. Did anyone else actually hear the words? It would be strange if he, the only one translating it, was the only one really hearing it. But it seemed to be the case, Joker and Alenko nodding to the beat, not the meaning.

His attention was dragged back by a flurry of motion.

The moment of hesitation had faded, and Shepard was back to it, stronger than ever. There was a desperation as she threw herself backwards, legs cartwheeling over her head. It was weightless, but the illusion of effortlessness was shattered when she landed hard on both feet, jolting her body. Legs split in the other direction this time, back arched. Brutal, but apparently easy for a human.

No.

It wasn't easy for her.

The focus on her face was intense, and he could see the strain in her body.

It reminded him of the fear he had seen before. The face of a woman pushing herself too far, being pushed too far.

Councilor Sparatus hadn't wanted her made Spectre. Had he been right? After all, if she wasn't capable of the mission, it was the Citadel Council's failure.

“Shepard.”

Wrex's rough voice broke the moment. She staggered upright instantly, sweat rolling down her cheeks. Without looking in their direction she lifted a hand and gestured at them, one he was familiar with. A middle finger. Alenko cleared his throat awkwardly and spun away, the lingering crew muttered among themselves and dispersed, but Joker just laughed, remaining with his arms crossed.

Garrus was more inclined to believe Joker's reaction.

Wrex stepped around the crates on the other end of the mat, crossing his arms over his chest as she approached him. As they spoke, inaudible over the music, Garrus saw her fidgeting awkwardly. Fingers curled in towards her palm, and then relaxed, over and over. If it hadn't been for their earlier conversation he would have ignored it, but the motion drew his attention to her palm, it was reddened as Humans tended to do, which wasn't surprising, but that wasn't all-

“Is that expected?” he asked Joker, gesturing across the way as his visor zoomed in. Small bumps were appearing on her skin, and the backs of her bare thighs were beginning to turn red. “Her hand. I don't know a lot about your physiology, but I've never seen that before.”

“Her...” Joker squinted, taking a few steps across the mat. “Oh for the love of- Shepard! Go see the Doc!”

Blinking, Shepard glanced away from Wrex and back at them, and then down at her palm when Joker gestured. A few seconds passed, and then she blinked, and stared down at the mat. Her expression darkened.

“Latex! That's why they call it latex-fruit syndrome! God _damn_ it,” she cursed. Glancing back over her shoulder, already moving towards them, she called back to Wrex, “I'll get it taken care of.”

As she passed between them, walking with a heavily annoyed gait. Funny how easily he could tell the difference, especially in her current attire. It completely changed the cadence of her hips. Not that he was watching her hips. Much.

“Level up,” she quipped, in an attempt at her usual light and cheerful voice, but it was a poor approximation. She moved past them, pace picking up, and called over her shoulder. “Joker, our last delivery is coming at oh-six hundred, and then we're out of here.”

“Gotcha, Commander.”

Troubled, Garrus watched Shepard go.

If she was so fragile, maybe they really had made a mistake in appointing her.

He wondered if that had something to do with her fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something to hopefully distract you today from stress. <3 
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/track/0iHA83002w19QxhOIixKDy


	4. Chapter 4

Flashes of death and destruction. Chaos, destruction, rocked by explosions. None of it made sense, it was fragments, but it kept screaming at her in a wordless demand. It was that demand that woke her, the helpless confusion.

_What do you want from me?!_

She jolted to high alert abruptly, eyes flying open, heart pounding. The pistol under her pillow was in her hand, pointing at the ceiling-- pointing at nothing. For a moment she couldn't breathe, and then the vicegrip on her lungs eased, and she inhaled sharply. Her brain switched back on. She breathed, letting panic ebb, adrenaline surge fading away.

Slowly, she dropped the gun, forcing her finger away from the trigger, flipping on the safety before releasing it. Lifting both hands, she rubbed her face rapidly.

Staring at the ceiling of her new room, Shepard took stock.

When she rolled her thumb across her fingers, the blisters were gone. No more aches. One deep breath proved her lungs were fine, sinuses clear. Eyes not itching. She was as good as she ever got.

At least she'd managed to get a workout before it all went to hell.

Rolling onto her side, bare feet hitting the floor, she meandered the few steps to her console, bringing it up. At least she hadn't gone into anaphylaxis this time, but her head was still muddy this morning, reading a message three times before it managed to sink in. They'd found a replacement for her old, apparently now toxic mats. That was appreciated.

Scanning through the rest quickly, she sank into the narrow chair and hit the message button. It beeped at her, and she leaned forward on her elbows. “Mom. I'm a Spectre now if it hasn't hit the news. And in command of Anderson's- well, I guess my ship. Running off to some ass-end of the galaxy to do definitely very secret things. Doing my best to stay safe. I love you, Captain. Shepard out.”

“Shepard.”

Glancing up as the voice rang out from a speaker, she blew out a small sigh, reaching down the front of her oversized shirt. She removed the small sticky contact from her chest, voice wry. Her nasty wakeup must have spiked her vitals. “Still here, doc. Sorry about that, I'm embarrassed. I've had that mat forever, I didn't think about contact allergies.”

“Latex is rare, Shepard, I don't blame you for not thinking of it. You've been dealing with your condition much longer than I, I have no doubt you're careful. The good news is, because the allergy is so deadly, there's not a bit of it to be found anywhere else on the ship.”

“I like good news. Didn't they used to make prophylactics out of that stuff? Yikes. Talk about a way to go.”

There was a small, surprised laugh from Doctor Chakwas. “I believe that to be the case, yes. At any rate, you're completely cleared. I've forwarded the report to your allergist.”

“Like she needs more reason to make disapproving comments about how I should be behind a desk,” Shepard sighed, tossing the contact down and rising to get into her uniform.

“You're a Spectre now, Shepard. No one's going to be putting you behind a desk.”

The call ended with a beep, and Shepard smiled reluctantly. The blue and black Alliance uniform was waiting, and she stared at it dubiously, breathing in and out through her nose. She ran her fingers over chest ridges, forehead furrowing. Obviously she had to wear it.

It just felt strange.

Being tapped for Spectre was absolutely of paramount importance, if not for her, for the future of humanity. Acknowledgment of humanity as an important part of the galactic stage. Symbols mattered.

But Joker and Alenko were right-- she was Alliance down to the bones.

She'd given up everything to make sure of it.

Her focus _had_ to shift, though. Think bigger. Wider. She couldn't 'yes sir' everything that came down the pipe any more; that was a luxury and she was the Commander. But she also didn't want the crew to think she was somehow above them, or was trying to distance herself from the Alliance they all served.

She anything else appropriately uniform except...

Why she still clung to it, Shepard didn't know. Pride, of course, the N7 graduation was the damn proudest day of her life. And, technically, it still was an Alliance uniform because N-school was a part of the military.

She pulled the N7 dress uniform out of the back of the tiny closet. Against the pitch black leather and thick-woven cloth, the logo and the brilliant red streak down the arm stood out sharply, not as comfortable as her matching hoodie but way more appropriate for a uniform situation. Throwing away second-guessing, she stripped off her t-shirt and got dressed.

The shorter sleeves of her standard Alliance uniform were preferable, but when she closed the closet and stared into the mirror, she felt like she'd made the right choice. Steeling her expression, she met her own eyes and nodded. More uh...Spectre-ie?

“You're an idiot who just wasted ten minutes picking out your clothes,” she told her reflection and turned away, shaking her head. Grabbing an elastic from her desk, she headed out of the cabin, braiding her annoyingly half-wavy hair back out of the way.

It was easier to remember names today, and she greeted them each as she passed through the mess, nodding and smiling. It was good to see them returned. Grabbing a bar, she used it to half-salute, half-wave, spinning around and heading for the elevator.

When she ducked out of the elevator and around the corner, she nearly collided with Gunnery Chief Williams, who was lurking there.

Shepard stopped short, feeling every muscle seize up. Pistol under the pillow. “Jesus! Damn it, Williams, I can kill a man with my bare hands, could you _please_ not startle me!”

“I'm sorry, Shepard,” she said instantly, stepping back with a smile. “You okay?”

She had to be okay. Shepard forced a smile, nodded her head, and stopped thinking of all the ways she could have killed Williams.

“I'll be fine. Were you waiting for me?” Shepard gestured over to the CIC, letting Williams follow her.

“Yes, ma'am. I've been officially reassigned, got the paperwork this morning. I just wanted to say thank you for allowing me onboard. I know how important this is.”

“Alliance works hard. Okay, great, then you're cleared to come with. You might wish I'd ditched you at Citadel soon, though,” Shepard joked, unwrapping the bar as she stared at the map.

“No way, ma'am. Stopping the Geth is incredibly important. I know what's at stake,” Williams said firmly.

“The Reapers are a bigger threat,” Shepard said absently.

“Of course, ma'am. The Reapers,” Williams agreed, but Shepard knew she didn't mean it.

It didn't matter. She'd do what she had to do. It didn't matter if people believed her or not, what mattered was that she kept getting things done. What mattered was that they believed in her as a person-- they hadn't seen what she had.

“Ma'am-”

“We need to find Benezia's daughter, but there's too many damn planets and not enough info about them,” she interrupted Williams, taking a bite from the corner of the bar. Stopping short, she pulled back violently, ignoring Williams' worried 'ma'am', turning over the bar and thumbing the wrapper back up. Okay, not cinnamon. Good.

Ignoring Williams' concerned look, she continued speaking. Had to normalize things like that. Having people hovering over her was no way to run a ship. “We'll have to get in close and then start scanning. Hopefully we'll find her right away and not on the last planet we- oops.”

“Shepard?” Williams asked.

Glancing past her, Shepard gestured and padded to the top of the short stairs, peering down the corridor to the bridge, past all the op stations. “Joker?”

“Yeah, Commander?” he called back.

“I hit the irony button again.”

“Damn it, Shepard!”

Williams was smiling when Shepard glanced back to her, and they shared a nod. “I have a bad habit of making the worst happen when I try to be optimistic.” She said just to clarify, and Williams laughed faintly.

“I'm sure it'll be fine, ma'am. I was hoping I could request to go with you and Kaidan on the landing crew, if that becomes necessary,” Williams said, straightening up. “I want to do my part.”

“I wasn't planning to take the Lieutenant, Williams. I will be taking Tali'Zorah. We haven't fought together yet, I need to assess her. I don't know a lot about Quarian battlefield tactics, but she's assured me she's capable, eager, and willing.”

“Are you anticipating hostilities, ma'am?” Williams said, poker-faced, but it was too late. Shepard had already seen the slight tightening of her eyes, the shiver of the muscle in her jaw when it clenched.

It might be good to take Williams. Shepard didn't want her to feel shunted aside for the non-humans, and she needed to see if she'd play nice in battle. “I always am. Make sure your loadout is ready. I won't have anyone slowing down the op because they're busy shining their pretty pink armor, Williams.” Shepard cracked a smile. “Not mocking. Jealous. I look terrible in pink.” She tugged her red braid.

William relaxed. “Just gotta find the right shade, ma'am.”

Shepard accepted the salute with a nod, and watched Williams go. Chuckling to herself, she turned on a heel to pace up to the bridge. “We cleared?”

“Yes, ma'am. You gonna call everyone to stations?” Joker asked, glancing sidelong as she paced up to his side. He gave a low whistle. “Looking badass, Commander.”

She winked at him. “Give them fifteen to finish breakfast. How are you feeling?”

“Don't do it to me, and I won't do it to you,” he retorted sourly.

He had a point.

“Hell, Joker, I've gotta pass on some of this worry after breaking out in the middle of storage,” she groused. “In front of a Turian, no less. I'm sure he thinks I'm a weak squishy little human fleshbag now.” Her brain reminded her that thus-far Vakarian hadn't reminded her of any of the more rigid Turians she'd met, but she was feeling too embarrassed to acknowledge the caveat.

“Ah, whatever. Rather be squishy than a metal bird-dinosaur,” Joker muttered. “Hey, when they bang do you think it sounds like pots and pans falling down the stairs?”

A laugh escaped her in a heavy snort, shoulders bowing forward as she grabbed his chair. Fighting to get control of herself, chest straining with the effort, she shook her head. “You bastard. Now I'm going to think of that when I look at him.”

“Just doing my part, Shepard. How'd you two meet, anyways? Kaidan said it seemed like you two knew each other. He was _definitely_ jealous.”

Hmh. Probably better to ignore that part, not that she hadn't noticed there might be inclinations in that direction. It was against Alliance regs, Kaidan wouldn't push it. She didn't have to worry about him.

Crushes would happen, she'd been trained how to deal with them.

“I stopped Vakarian from arresting a kid,” she said, and laughed again at his dubious look. “I don't think he was going to, and in his defense, she had just robbed someone. What can I say? I'm a sucker.”

“He seems...okay. Kind of a stick up his ass, though,” Joker said, dubiously.

“I have fun talking with him. We've got a good patter, he's quick and just sarcastic enough,” she said, smiling lopsidedly to herself. “Plus, good in a fight. Having a sniper at my back makes me feel secure-- I'm a good distraction.”

“You taking him with you?”

“I need to see Tali'Zorah in action, and Williams needs to go. Mako isn't that big,” Shepard replied, nose wrinkling. “But I plan to keep them all in heavy rotation. They need to feel they're not just here to be tokens, and everyone else needs to see that I've got their back.”

“Hey, I'm just a pilot, I'm sure you know how to _massage_ the situation better than me.”

“You call me a politician and I punch you,” she retorted sourly. “Call everyone we need to stations. Get Pressley up here, too. He and I need to hash out things. I don't think he was expecting to be XO, I need to touch base with him.”

“Yes, ma'am! How high, ma'am?” Joker retorted.

She smacked the back of his chair, rolling her eyes as she turned away.

Ass.

It was hard to breathe.

Not just because she was collapsed on the ground panting, swimming in her sweaty armor, but also because her damn nose was stuffed up again. The antihistamine would kick in soon. Until then, she was gonna lay on the ground and be grateful that her ship hadn't melted. Shepard kind of felt like she was melted, though.

“The parallels are fascinating,” T'Soni said softly.

Tali laughed breathlessly. “It _is_ fascinating. It also makes me wonder if humans could be like Quarians, given enough time of course.”

“We're not like Quarians,” Williams interrupted, voice a bit sharp. Shepard glanced up from her position on the floor, watching as Williams shoved her helmet into her locker with a bit more force than necessary. “The Commander just has some unfortunate genetic-”

“Exacerbated by a childhood in sterile environments, constantly moving,” Shepard interrupted, allowing the point even though she didn't like that they were talking about her. She couldn't let Williams get techy. “You're right, Tali. I should have eaten more dirt as a kid.”

“Eaten more...” Tali started uncertainly.

“Of course, early exposure to possible allergens is vital in building an immune system,” T'Soni said, leaning forward, hands on her knees. “Are you all right now, Shepard?”

“Do I sound okay?” she asked wryly, well aware of how stuffed her sinuses were and how stupid it made her sound. Her eyes were itching like crazy.

“I'm...not sure, actually,” T'Soni said.

“I'm not, Doctor. But it's not even remotely crippling, I'm just trying to catch my breath.” A change in topic was needed, for her temper if nothing else. “Man, I really wish the Mako had a sound system.”

“Would you like one?” Tali asked.

The Quaria- no- Tali had proven herself. She and Shepard worked shockingly well together, disruptive elements blending seamlessly. Tali had been the perfect person to face the Geth with, even if Shepard hadn't known they were there. She was also intrigued to see what they could do with Vakarian or the Lieutenant at their back.

Her question would have garnered a shut-down, before they'd fought together.

“Yeah. Something that can link to my omni-tool would be amazing. Talk to Vakarian about it,” she said, finally pulling up to sit. Her helmet rolled away, across the floor.

“Thank you, Shepard,” T'Soni said, briefly clasping her shoulder. A warm, grounding contact. “I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't arrived when you did.”

“Die, probably,” Williams said. “Commander?”

Trying not to glare, but shooting Doctor T'Soni an apologetic look, Shepard turned her attention to Williams. “Fifteen minutes, comm room. Debriefing.”

“Aye aye, ma'am.”

She wanted to check in on Joker, but she knew he was concentrating right now. Hopefully not too mad at her.

With a groan, she staggered to her feet, rolling her head from side to side. Fighting that Krogan had been hell, and the panic of the whole fucking place collapsing afterwards had been worse. Luckily the Normandy had been waiting, or they probably would have been toast. Absently she tried to lift the arm that was a dead weight, and winced. Out of joint.

She shouldn't have told Doctor Chakwas she was fine.

Ah well, someone would pop it back in for her.

One-handed stripping off her tight armor was difficult, but doable, baring her down to the close-fitting uniform underneath. Liara and Tali continued talking. Well, chattering, really.

She was trying to figure out how to pull on her uniform jacket over her arm when a shout came from behind her.

“Shepard! What'd you do, drive _directly_ into lava?”

“It was more brushing up against the lava,” Tali said, laughing.

Half-turning to face Vakarian baring down on her, she didn't bother to hide her smile. Was he annoyed? She searched his face for clues, but was still having some difficulties. “It's in one piece,” she pointed out.

“One partially melted piece,” he replied, crossing his arms.

“You ever popped a joint, Vakarian?”

“I ever what?” he asked, which was enough of an answer.

Half-turning towards him, she gestured. “Grab me by the wrist. Dislocated shoulder, fucking Krogan nearly ripped my arm off. I'm a baby, I need someone to brace me to do this.”

“Is this something that happens...often?” he asked, but took her wrist when she lifted her arm. Thankfully dropping the issue of the Mako. Yeah it needed some plating replaced, and maybe one...or three of the tires were slightly melted, but that sort of thing happened sometimes.

“Every now and again. Humans are weirdly fragile despite being tough as hell,” she said with humor, bracing herself back on a foot as she tested his grip. “Tighter.”

“Fragile...yeah,” he said musingly, and then snorted. “I don't want to be the one putting bruises on the human commander,” he said wryly, but she could feel his armored fingers pressing down on the bones of her wrist now.

“Eh, that's what medigel is for,” Shepard dismissed, and then carefully pulled herself away from him, trusting his grip on her wrist. When the joint rolled back into place, there was a small, visceral sound and a stab of pain. Vakarian immediately released her. Yeah, that'd damaged some stuff. “Whew, thanks Vakarian.”

“No problem. But, you know, you don't have to damage the Mako just to make me feel useful. Really.”

She pulled on her uniform jacket, well aware that she was a sweaty hot mess. Debriefing couldn't wait, she wanted to figure out just why the hell the Geth had been after Doctor T'Soni. When she gestured to them, they followed. Vakarian didn't fall to, but she paused and raised an eyebrow at him, gesturing.

“Yeah, you too,” she said, amused. He nodded and fell into step. “And I don't want to hear a single comment about my driving. I heard enough of it planetside.”

“That is probably because you are a terrible driver, Shepard,” Tali said, and then giggled when she flipped her off over her shoulder. “What does that mean?”

“It's a vulgar Human gesture. Used either aggressively, or in this case, flippantly,” Vakarian said.

“New rule. People who complain about my driving don't get to go on missions!” she snapped, hiding a laugh. “You gonna be at my six next time, Vakarian?”

“If I can find it,” he retorted, and this time she could read his expression. A smile.

They all headed for the elevator, grabbing Wrex on the way. They had to be with her for this, she couldn't leave anyone out of the loop. They were practically flying blind, and she needed the diverse information and opinions.

She fell into silence as others talked around her, staring at the elevator door as she took stock of her physical and mental state. Shoulder throbbing, would need some repair of hopefully just bruised muscles and strained ligaments. Wounds from the fight had been dealt with, though she could feel a faint throb from the bullet that had gone through her calf. It'd be fine by morning.

Mentally she was going to crash hard once the adrenaline left her system; she knew herself well enough for that.

Hopefully she could sleep through it.

The debriefing couldn't wait, she'd just have to stoic through it, call the Council, and then collapse in the shower. Oh man, a shower. There wasn't anything she wanted more.

She kept the lead, but she was moving by rote, leading everyone to the comm room with her brain switched off. The door opened, and she ushered them all in in front of her, smiling. Breathe in, breathe out, and-

A hand grabbed her injured shoulder from behind.

“Shep-”

With her brain blank, instincts took over like they always tried to when she was surprised. Her elbow shot back, landing directly in the solar plexus to disable. Grab the arm, duck, and throw-- make some space, remove the flanking advantage, give you time to draw your gun.

Her hand went back as she got back to her feet, finding nothing at her hip.

The unexpected end to the routine movements snapped her brain back into function, and her eyes widened as she realized what she'd done. Alenko was lying on the floor where she'd thrown him into the comm room, wheezing and trying to get his lungs to function again. Shit.

“Jesus CHRIST, Lieutenant! I am not a person you sneak up on! I thought you read my fucking file!” she snapped, irritation and relief flooding through her. “Jesus motherfucking tapdancing Christ almighty, I could have _killed_ you!”

“Holy crap, Shepard, I thought you were _joking_ about that this morning,” Williams said.

Concern warring with frustration, hands shaking as the adrenaline surge faded, Shepard stepped in and extended a hand down to Alenko as he started breathing again, wheezing. He grabbed her arm, though, and let her haul him to his feet. She looked him over once as he staggered. No worse for the wear.

“Noted, Commander,” he said, voice a little rougher than usual. When she clapped his shoulder lightly, he smiled. “Sorry. I'll remember that in the future.”

“Be pretty hard to forget, after that,” Vakarian said, and there was some laughter.

She was grateful that Alenko laughed as well, a little embarrassed, ducking his head. Good. Still, Shepard remained standing as everyone settled, too jittery and exhausted to sit. If she did she might not be able to focus.

Shepard still had to face the Council after this.

She settled between Wrex and Liara, a hand on the backs of their chairs. She met Wrex's stare as he gazed at her, raising an eyebrow.

“Good instincts, Shepard,” he told her approvingly.

She snorted. “Thanks, Wrex.”

Tali was sitting alone in the mess.

Not that there weren't other people there, but they were all Humans and she was sitting alone at the end of the table. It wasn't surprising, but the Quarian was chatty, it probably bothered her more than it did Garrus.

He crossed the low-lit mess, ignoring stares and conversations that faded when he passed. Better than hostility, but not by much. It was early, it was easy enough to ignore the few people up yet. Better to eat when it wasn't crowded, and then duck out before they got too outnumbered. Getting his own food, Garrus joined Tali.

She glanced up as he settled, eyes wide behind the visor of her helmet. She let out a little breath. “Oh. Hello, Garrus.”

“Food offend you?” he asked, gesturing to the untouched tray in front of her.

“It's...fine. Purified Turian rations,” Tali said, giving a little sigh. “I just don't usually eat meat.”

“You should talk to the Commander.”

“I don't want to bother Shepard,” Tali denied, glancing over her shoulder towards the crew quarters.

“Hmmh. I guess I understand what you mean,” Garrus said, nodding his head. “Don't want to give them an excuse?”

“I- Adams is not treating me poorly. I enjoy working with him, and he is very friendly and tries to make sure the others on the engineering team treat me well, but others-” She trailed off, and shrugged, a defensive little movement. “They aren't rude, just standoffish. I can't make people like me, Garrus.”

“Sometimes it's worse when they just pretend you don't exist.” He chuckled when she huffed a little sigh. “Hey, you've got me, and the Commander's got your back.”

“And Liara's nice,” Tali agreed, voice brightening. “And Wrex is...Wrex.”

“Hey, mind if I sit?”

The familiar voice was unexpected. Garrus leaned back and glanced over as Kaidan tugged out a chair, carrying his tray. Tali and Garrus shared a look, and after a moment he gestured to her.

“Sure,” Tali agreed, tilting her head as he settled down. “Are you all right, Lieutenant?”

He coughed, the cup of coffee he was carrying splashing. Quickly he set it down with the tray, plopping into the chair. “Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little embarrassed.”

“Is it because she's female? I've heard some humans can be prejudicial based on gender,” Tali said.

“It- no! No. I'm just embarrassed I set her off like that. I didn't mean to upset her,” Kaidan said quickly, clearing his throat.

“And I'm mad I missed it.” Another familiar voice, as Joker carefully settled down next to Garrus. “Did she really throw him across the room and into a wall?”

The conversation was surprisingly comfortable, and he wasn't sure if it had been a calculated move or not, but it didn't really matter. As more people entered the mess to start their day, things grew rowdier. Eventually Doctor T'Soni found her way up, and quickly proved to be friendly, if very talkative. Even Wrex joined them, and Adams from engineering stopped by briefly to talk with Tali about some calibrations they were doing.

Slowly the feeling of being outnumbered and on-edge faded away.

When Shepard finally appeared the conversation was getting boisterous, Joker leaning forward over his tray and gesturing. Garrus noticed her and inclined his head, but she just lifted a finger to her lips, approaching from behind. In her low-cut shorts and loose cropped shirt, he could see there was a marking just above her waistband on her left hip that looked manmade, unlike the pale speckles that covered her head to foot. A tattoo. It looked like some sort of script in a language he couldn't read.

He should probably stop trying to, it probably looked a lot like he was ogling her.

“- and I _told_ him, have you even seen any old sci-fi vids? Humans spent centuries making up pretend aliens to bang. I guarantee, the first question someone asked when we found out we weren't alone is how d-”

“Do I fuck it,” Shepard finished over him dryly, laughing when Joker startled and straightened up. Kaidan immediately stopped laughing and flushed, straightening up as well. She clutched the towel around her neck with both hands, standing hipshot as she scanned the table, a grin on her sweaty face. “Well, don't stop on my account. Gonna make me feel like a spoilsport.”

“Had a good workout, Shepard?” Kaiden asked, staring intently at her face and nothing else. “Strength training today?”

“Leg day,” she agreed with a little tilt of her lips. “Settled in, okay, Doctor? I'm grateful you've decided to stay.”

“Settling in fine, Shepard, thank you. Were you going to join us?”

“If I'm allowed, I could eat here instead of in the shower. Though I kinda feel right now that I ruined the fun,” she said, glancing down the table. “Wrex. Good to see you.”

“Shepard.”

“Everyone knows it's the job of the CO to ruin the fun, Shepard,” Joker said, grinning at her when she gently cuffed his chair. “But I suppose we could make room. You gonna actually put on clothes, or you gonna wander around with your ass hanging out?”

Kaidan turned redder.

“Joker, I work hard on this ass,” she retorted, turning around. “Show it some goddamn respect.”

“Salute the Commander's ass, men!” Joker retorted mockingly, and then laughed as she flipped him off over her shoulder.

“You two are close,” Garrus said, chuckling.

“Yeah, we've been friends for years. Despite how much of a pain in my ass she is,” Joker said, glancing across the table at Alenko. “You look like a beet.”

“Shut it, Joker.”

“This is what I don't get about humans. Every other word out of your mouths is an idiom,” Garrus said, vaguely exasperated. Tali nodded in agreement, and Wrex snorted. “We have translators, and I still don't understand half of what you're saying.”

“You should hear what we sound like in English,” Kaidan said with a chuckle, relaxing. “English is, without a doubt, the _worst_ designed language that has ever existed. And Earth has a lot of them. Our grammar makes no sense, half our words are stolen from other languages, and even the actual rules of the language only apply about seventy five percent of the time.”

“That sounds confusing,” Liara said uncertainly.

“It is,” Shepard confirmed, slinging a chair around to the end of the table, plopping down unceremoniously between Tali and Garrus. She was carrying a cup of the strong-smelling coffee the other humans were drinking, and a bar. “There are over six thousand Human languages.”

Wide-eyed, Liara leaned over the table, voice dripping with shock. “Six _thousand_?”

“Yep. Chaotic, diverse place, Earth,” Shepard said, and she actually sounded proud of that. She glanced sidelong at Garrus, and her smile turned sharp. “We're a very unregimented species.”

He gave her a disapproving shake of his head. “That's an interesting way of saying 'messy', Shepard.”

“That's why I'm the best representative of humanity, Vakarian. I'm a fucking mess, too,” she laughed, setting her cup down on the table. “Speaking of, there was something I wanted to ask you.”

“Not going to ask me to wrench your arm back into place again, are you?”

“I might have to. No, no, I wanted to ask if you would be willing to change your mind.”

There was an impish tilt to her lips, in her voice. Another set-up, he was getting used to them from her. The back and forth came naturally, her quips as quick as the woman herself. There were a lot of eyes on them at the moment.

Knowing it was coming, he still asked. “Change my mind about what?”

“I was wondering if you'd be willing to put some bruises on me,” she said, and then smirked as the sputtering and laughter started. Looking entirely too pleased with herself. Almost smug.

“I don't know about that, Shepard, I don't think you can keep up with me,” he said, keeping his voice flat, refusing to smile.

“I was hoping I could finally see how fast you can really move. Don't tell me the armor stays on, Vakarian.”

“I could be convinced to take it off.”

“Get a room, you two!” Joker interrupted, exasperated, and Garrus finally cracked.

He chuckled, shaking his head. A quick scan of the table proved that everyone was amused, except Alenko, who had a withdrawn, pensive look on his face. Unsurprising. The Commander still looked way too smug, and her smile widened to a grin as he turned his attention back to her.

“You can't seriously want to spar me, Shepard.”

“Are you kidding? I've never had the opportunity to spar a Turian before. How can I be prepared if I don't have any experience? Hell, I'd go hand to hand against Wrex if I didn't think he'd have me on my back in seconds.”

“If you made it that long,” Wrex agreed.

“See? At least I've got a chance against you.”

“Ah, no, you do not,” Garrus replied with a disbelieving chuckle. “You forget the talons, Shepard? Or the carapace?”

“Nope. Still wanna do it,” she said, slapping both hands on the table, her cup sloshing. “Come on, Garrus. Be a pal. Please?”

“So this is how I die,” he sighed, leaning back in his seat, away from her pleading, big brown eyes. They bored into him. “Shot to death because I accidentally murdered the first Human Spectre in front of her entire crew.”

She beamed from ear to ear, eyes lighting up. It shouldn't have had such an effect on him, but it did-- not that he'd tell her that, because then she'd think she'd won.

Which she had.


	5. Chapter 5

Nerves were rising as they approached Noveria, which meant it was an excellent time for Shepard to get her ass kicked.

She had absolutely no illusions about the fact that Vakarian would, in fact, kick the everliving shit out of her, but she needed to learn. Failure was one of the best ways to learn. She'd prepared as best she could, but it really wasn't enough.

“T'Soni! Do you have a minute?”

“Really, it's all right to call me Liara, Shepard,” the Asari doctor said with a smile, turning away from the console. “What can I do for you?”

“I thought, who would know the most about Turians on this ship that isn't Vakarian? And I thought of you,” she confessed, approaching and leaning against a counter. “You know I'm fighting Vakarian tonight.”

“Yes, everyone's talking about it,” Liara said, smiling faintly. “And betting on it.”

“Crap, they better not be betting on me, I _know_ I'm gonna lose,” Shepard groused. At Liara's look of surprise, she laughed. “I'm in it to learn, not to win. And to try and sweeten him up, I need to ask a favor. Beating the crap out of each other is a good bonding activity.”

“Impressively tactical, Shepard.”

“I'm a tactician! So. I need to find vids of Turian hand to hand fighting. Or something. A manual? I don't know how they fight each other. I know weak spots for shooting, but this is entirely different.”

“You didn't look on the extranet?” Liara asked curiously.

“I don't know enough to refine my search, everything I pulled up was pornography. Which some VI out there has already added to a file about me,” Shepard said, frustrated. Liara's laugh still made her smile, though. It was kind of a stupid situation. “It was not the education I was looking for today, unfortunately. I was hoping you might know the name they use for their hand to hand combat style or...something. I know they all do military service, I assume they have a specific style.”

“Yes, I can help you with that,” Liara agreed, beckoning her over to the console.

Relieved, Shepard joined her.

Thankfully narrowing it down with Liara's help found her some actual, good data to survey. It would help. Oh, she was still going to end up a possibly bloody mess at the end of it, but hopefully she could at least appear competent enough to not be an embarrassment. That was really all she wanted.

Plus the thrill-- that was definitely a part of it.

After an hour or so of chatting with the gregarious doctor and watching vids, she felt like she'd absorbed what she was going to. It should have left her scared shitless, but she wasn't. He was going to hold back, she already knew that, and she was pleased to see that they had a sparring style that was more wrestling and throwing than punching and kicking- lots of holds and takedowns. Fast movements, brutal disabling.

Unfortunately, he had a height, weight, and reach advantage on her.

But she was quick, and she had a lot of stamina. At the very least, she could draw it out and dance circles around him. It was gonna be fun.

Without armor, there wasn't any point in weighing herself down with clothes. They wouldn't do a damn thing to block hits from a Turian, so she didn't bother covering up. She needed to be able to move. She just grabbed something out of her compact, rolled-up gym slash sleepwear stash, snapping on a spandex running tank and a pair of cropped leggings.

It was absolutely no surprise that when she went down to the garage, there were already people there. “Don't any of you have a hobby?” she called out to the gathered crew as she cut through them, grinning at the laughs.

With all of the empty crates taken off at the Citadel, the mats were more exposed than before. The new one was thick and black, far less battered-looking than her old ones. She'd have to thank Anderson. Taking a few testing, bouncing steps on it, she paced into the center.

Might as well stretch.

Any modesty she might have had about doing this in front of people had died long before it ever had the chance to flourish. Competing from the age of seven onward had something to do with that. It was more important that she be ready.

Who cared if people were looking?

She limbered up slowly, testing her shoulder carefully despite knowing it was perfectly fine now. There was no reason to be reckless. And on that note, she let down her hair and twisted it up into a bun instead. Not that she thought this would turn into a hair-pulling fight, but she hadn't lived this long being reckless.

She was down in the splits, stretching her arms above her head on the mat when she felt it move under the weight of another body. Flopping her head to the side, she peered up at Garrus. Arms crossed over his chest, he stared down at her.

“Wow, the armor does come off,” she quipped, despite having already known it did. Amusingly, she was pretty sure he'd just taken the armor off, and the plain black and blue suit he was wearing was just standard issue that went on underneath. “You can take the guy out of C-Sec...”

“Yes, because I had a lot of time to go shopping,” he drawled sarcastically.

Just to be an ass, she pulled herself back up and slid her hands between her legs, pulling herself up into a handstand and then walking over to turn herself upright. Pivoting slowly on her toes, she raised an eyebrow, pacing over to turn on her music. “Well shit, Garrus, if we need to tell the Geth to wait for a while so you can go pretty yourself up, just let me know.”

“I'm already plenty pretty. We fighting or dancing here, Shepard?”

“Six of one,” she said flippantly, and then laughed at his puzzled look. “It's a saying. Six of one, half dozen of the other. More human nonsense. Let's get on with this before the people get restless.”

“Sure. One question, Shepard,” Garrus said.

“What? If it's about points or anything, I figured we'd just go until we were done. Or, until you're done.” She flashed a cocky smile.

Garrus crossed his arms again. “No, I was actually going to ask you what your tattoo said,” he said with a faint chuckle.

Blinking, she glanced down, a hand instinctively going to her hip. “I always forget about that. Uh. L'art Pour L'art,” Shepard said, knowing his translator wouldn't get the fact that it was in French. It'd just directly translate to 'art for art's sake' or whatever the Turian equivalent was.

He went very still. A few seconds of silence passed, broken when he gave a snort that turned into a chuckle. She grinned. He got it, then.

“Yeah, it was my birthday and I was just legal to get inked and I knew I wanted one, but I didn't know what I wanted,” she said with a laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners. “It was a very weird rebellion.”

Not entirely true, but thinking about why she'd been so desperate to do _anything_ to reclaim her own body wasn't worth thinking about.

Better to turn it into a joke.

“So you got a tattoo that says 'I have this because I wanted a tattoo',” he finished, and shook his head. “That's ridiculous, Shepard.”

“Thank you,” she said, oddly pleased.

They squared up, and she willed her mind to focus.

This wasn't about winning, it was about analyzing him. Seeing what made his fighting style, but more than that, seeing what made Garrus. If she was right about him, he'd test her. He was smart, he wouldn't go full on out of the gate, not in front of the crew. She'd have some time to get a read on him.

She knew he'd make the first move.

After the crew shouted a countdown at them, whistling and laughing, he surged at her almost instantly. Trying to startle her. She dodged him lithely, spinning to the side and coming around to his six so he'd have to spin to face her. She didn't take the opening.

Instead she dodged for a while, both of them testing each other. A thwarted grab from him, a punch from her that deflected off his shoulder and did more damage to her than him. He managed to briefly get her in a body-hold, but she slithered free, getting a frustrated growl for her trouble. She tried not to grin at him.

They got some space again, circled each other, and when he jolted in again in an attempt at a hold, she spin-kicked him directly into his lower torso, where a human stomach would be. It was like kicking a wall, but he actually staggered back. At least she was doing _something_ to him. But she wasn't the only one learning.

Garrus braced himself and bolted at her again, with that same blinding speed. She was expecting another attempted hold or pin, something to take her out without hurting her. Except this time when she expected him to stop he didn't, and her dodge backwards wasn't enough to bring her out of range.

The shoulder-check into her upper chest threw her violently to the mat.

He got some space from her, instead of following up the hit like he should have.

The pain felt good, rattled her teeth and broke through, clearing her head. She grinned and staggered up to her feet, weaving slightly from side to side. The next two strikes she dodged deftly. They were diversions; he hadn't punched her seriously yet. The abrupt surge forward that she barely slipped out of the range of was a serious attack.

Outside of his range, she grinned again, giving a little hip shimmy in time to the music that she bobbed along to.

“Are you going to fight me?” he asked, exasperated.

“Pursuit predators,” she replied impishly, laughing as he attempted to circle her and she followed the motion in the other direction. “High speed, but worse at catching prey that refuses to move in a straight line. Humans are endurance predators. I bet I can wear you out.”

Unbidden, her accidental extranet searches came unbidden to her brain. She felt herself flush, and hoped exertion covered it up. Damn it.

Now was not the time to be thinking about sex.

“If only you were as fast as your mouth, Shepard.”

All that did was make her laugh, stuttering through her embarrassment. Knocked a little off-balance mentally, this time she wasn't quite fast enough to notice he was preparing to close the distance. The shift of his weight had her sliding back, but it was just a second too late.

Grabbed by the elbow, she was pulled forward into a vicegrip she had no hope of breaking through brute force. Before she had time to slip free, things went upside-down and she slammed on her back into the mat. Some sort of hip throw.

The hand pinning her chest to the mat was a breakable grip, at least. She grabbed his wrist and slammed her fist into the inside of his elbow, doing her best to aim her knuckles between the plates. She felt the impact scrape her knuckles raw, but it made him buckle.

On her back she scrambled free, already aiming a kick at the spur that protected his knee joint. Handy little adaption, that, and it kept her from taking out his leg. She rolled head over feet to stay out of range and slipped back up to her feet.

When he turned to face her, she broke with what he expected her to do and rushed him.

Inside his reach, she slammed her shoulder directly into his lower torso, knocking him just off-balance enough to hook her foot behind him and force him to stumble over it. She was surprised when it actually sent him down to the mat-- seemed screwing with his balance might be the way to handle the fight. Good to know.

It didn't take him down for more than a couple seconds, and she was too surprised to follow up.

“Nice move,” he said, sounding surprised and pleased.

That was it.

That was enough for her to feel like she'd won.

Time to push her luck. “Expect the unexpected, Garrus.”

Now it was time to exhaust herself.

She stopped holding back, even if he wouldn't. She tried to remember the vulnerable points, the spots between plates where she could land blows. Half the time she missed, knuckles stinging, raw and throbbing. It felt good. He threw her a few times, but he didn't actually seem phased until she decided to be an asshole.

When she'd gotten him off-balance, kicked him from behind, she bolted in and jumped on his back.

Laughing breathlessly, she put him in a headlock from behind, awkwardly at first, until her arm slipped up the length of his throat and found where it hit his jaw. She tightened her arm, body awkwardly hunched over his cowl. “You ready to tap out, Vakarian?” she wheezed.

“Do you ever stop moving?!” he retorted in frustration.

She was laughing when he used his far superior reach to grab her by both upper arms and throw her over his head. She slammed into the mat flat on her back, hard, but instincts took over. Rolling to the side, she flipped back to her feet, ignoring the pain.

Then she punched him in the face.

It landed neatly, throwing his head to the side, her fist following the motion. He actually lifted a hand to his face, grimacing and working his jaw. Grinning weakly, she staggered back.

He returned the favor.

Maybe it was her that should have been expecting the unexpected. It was still a pulled punch, she could feel that when her head whipped to the side, but even so it fucking hurt. She practically saw stars.

Good.

Staggering back, panting, she lifted her still-stinging hand and wiped her mouth. She could see he was about to say something smart, but suddenly everything started getting very oddly far-away and dark, vision fading from the edges as her eyes went wide.

“Shepard?!”

That was the last thing she remembered.

As Shepard's eyes rolled up in her head and she fell backwards onto the mat, Garrus surged forward.

He managed to scoop her up as she fell, immediately turning. People scattered out of his way as he approached at just short of a run, sounds of confusion and chaos abruptly filling the air. Her face went dead white apart from her markings, but that wasn't what worried him. He could hear her wheezing, every breath a struggle.

And then he couldn't hear her breathing at all, her entire body going still.

“Doctor!”

Ignoring any shouts and questions, he broke through the crowd of the crew, bolting for the medbay. Thankfully it was close, because she was limp now, heavy in his arms despite her small size. Doctor Chakwas spun away from a datapad as he bolted in, her face immediately going from questioning to shocked.

“Put her down,” she ordered instantly.

Doctor Chakwas spun, yanking open a drawer and pulling out a disposable injector from a pile of them. Garrus set Shepard down on the table, quickly getting out of the way. The injector was pressed to the outside of her thigh, depressed and held. The Doctor still hadn't said a word, face set in concentration. After a couple seconds, she pulled back.

“Massage the injection site for ten seconds,” she ordered him, moving to Shepard's head, pressing fingers to her throat, shaking her head. “It may not be swift enough,” she said, turning away again.

He watched in silence, the panic of what had happened still coursing through him as his fingers pressed into Shepard's thigh, massaging. It was odd how soft it was now with the muscles lax instead of tense.

“Doctor Chakwas...”

Kaidan.

Garrus didn't even turn to look in his direction.

“Ensure that no one disturbs us, Lieutenant Alenko,” the doctor said crisply, turning back around with a tray full of medical supplies. “How long has it been, Garrus?”

“Fourty-five to fifty seconds.”

“Good. We have less than five minutes before she begins suffering brain damage, and less than that if I can't get her vitals stable. This is the worst case of anaphylaxis I have ever seen. We can't be certain that the injection will be enough.”

He could tell the Doctor wasn't really speaking to him, so he didn't say anything, watching as she injected Shepard with something else in the throat and then began the process of forcing open her mouth with a metal implement. Her other hand held a tube, which followed the other tool, obviously being fed down into her throat. It was uncomfortable to watch. He averted his eyes, noting the red flush to her skin that was beginning on the backs of her hands, quickly turning to a firey red and white rash that crept up her arms.

When her body shifted, he glanced back, staring at her chest, waiting for it to rise. It didn't. The Doctor had strapped a mask over her face, no doubt connected to the tube forced into her throat.

“Why isn't she breathing?”

“Cardiac arrest.”

When Doctor Chakwas grabbed a pair of scissors and cut open the front of Shepard's top, his eyes averted upwards. He knew enough to know that was private for human women.

As a vitals monitor flared to life, he could see the frantically peaking lines that he assumed were not normal. He had no idea what he was looking at, what they should look like. It just didn't look good with how things were fluctuating rapidly.

“Now we just need to get her heart going properly, and everything will be fine,” she said, but he could hear the tension in her voice.

The fact that her heart had literally _stopped_ finally sunk in. The whine of the electric stimulator was loud, and he counted the pulses in the back of his head, staring at the vitals monitor. He watched until it until it evened out, and the panicked beeping of the machine faded.

Out of the corner of his vision, there was motion. Her bare chest rose, and then fell. She was breathing.

Doctor Chakwas sighed, heavily. “Garrus, you can stop. I believe she's going to be all right.”

Startled, he glanced down and realized he had been massaging the injection site the entire time. Dropping his hand, he finally looked over to the Doctor. She still looked worried.

“I don't know what happened, Doctor. We were sparring. It was the mat before, could it be something with the new mat?” He had no idea; he was just guessing blindly.

“I need you tell me exactly how it happened,” she replied wearily, beginning to clean up her supplies, metal tools rattling in the tray. Turning to a drawer, she pulled out a folded sheet of cloth. Shaking it out with calm, careful movements, she draped it over Shepard's form.

Finally he looked at her, staring at the slow rise and fall of her chest- it was reassuring.

“She got me around the neck, I threw her down onto her back. She got up, got me really good across the face- punched me. I hit her back. And then she stepped back and passed out. I didn't think I'd hit her that hard-”

“No, this is definitely an incredibly severe allergic reaction, something that likely isn't in her file. Were you bleeding, Garrus?” Her gaze turned to him, and she looked him over critically.

“No, she didn't draw blood. Nothing happened that I can think of...”

“She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand,” Kaidan said from the doorway, quietly. Garrus hadn't heard him return. Didn't know if he'd been there the whole time.

“Wiped her...” Doctor Chakwas turned away, crossing to open a cabinet and pull something down. “The Commander will be fine, Lieutenant Alenko. Please go tell everyone as much.”

“Yes, Doctor. Vakarian...”

“Is staying here for a moment,” the Doctor said crisply. “Please go, Shepard needs rest. Her body is severely traumatized.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

Alenko withdrew. Garrus, confused but silent, finally spoke when she passed him a small glass tray. “Doctor?”

“I need a sample,” she said, apologetic but brisk.

“...of?”

Turning back to Shepard, she turned her pale, speckled arm over and slid a needle into the blue vein under the surface of her thin skin, drawing a syringe full of brightly scarlet blood. “Turian saliva, Garrus. I need to do a blood test. If I'm correct, any other kind of test will likely kill her.”

Understanding dawned abruptly.

She'd punched him, and then wiped her mouth with the same hand.

Shit.

“Take my blood, too. If you're already doing tests, it's better to test everything else at once,” he said, and the Doctor nodded approvingly.

He wasn't ignorant of what this all could mean, but relief that Shepard had pulled through pushed it all aside for now. Damn it.

He'd nearly killed her.

Take stock.

Eyes slowly slit open, heavy and gummy and aching as if she'd been violently rubbing them. Her vision swam, came back together, and she felt like she was made out of lead. Two eyes still there.

Her fingers twitched, curled in towards her palms. Two hands. Her fingers felt swollen, joints reluctantly folding. Ten fingers.

She breathed in- intubated. Again. It was stupid to remove the mask, but her brain panicked at the feeling of something being in her throat, and if she didn't get it out she'd start choking. She had to get it out.

_Get it out!_

Surging up straight, ignoring the aches and the stab of pain in her brain, the way the room spun and the scream of the vitals monitor voicing her panic, she reached in and pulled the tube out of her aching throat, gasping and gagging. She'd done it before, she knew she'd survive. The Doctor should have known she would--

It was in her file.

Throwing the tube on the floor, she let her forehead fall onto her knees as she wheezed. Breathing. Under her own power. Her throat hurt so damn bad.

“Shepard!”

It was T'Soni, rushing in from the lab. She reached for Shepard's arm as she reached down and ripped the contacts off her chest, throwing them to the ground as well. It shut up the monitor, which went silent. She didn't care.

She felt like she'd been hit by a truck.

The hand on her arm tightened, and she finally pulled her forehead up. It prickled with sweat, and she prickled all over- like her skin was made of needles and cold. Shepard smiled her most charming smile at Liara, and winked.

“Back from the dead, that's me,” she rasped.

“Shepard,” Liara sighed, relaxing. “You're going to have the Doctor in a panic.”

“Ugh, what was it this time? It happened so fast. It never happens that fast.”

“I'm not certain. The Doctor wouldn't tell anyone,” Liara said, hand still on her upper arm, supporting her. “I think she doesn't want anyone to worry...”

“Except me, apparently.” Doctor Chakwas stepped into medical, a disapproving stare turned on Shepard. She tried the smile again. It worked most of the time.

Not this time.

“Doctor T'Soni, could you give us some privacy. Confidentiality.”

“Of course,” Liara said, stepping back with a smile. “Good to have you back, Shepard.”

Shepard watched as Liara headed out, resting her arms on her knees and trying to pull herself up. She had to push through. They needed to touch down on Noveria, and she knew they'd never get a ground crew there without her specifically.

She was the only Spectre.

“I'd like a steroid shot,” she requested of the Doctor, who frowned at her. “Please. I need to be ready now, Doctor. Not in three days.”

“I will give you the shot, under protest,” Doctor Chakwas said, much to her relief. “You've already had too much medication in your system, but I agree you need to be functional soon. Just be aware of any mood changes, please.”

“So, lay it on me. What hit me that damn hard?”

“Only Garrus and I know the results. Commander, you are deathly allergic to Turian bodily fluids. At least I assume all of them. We tested saliva and blood-”

“You're fucking joking,” Shepard interrupted, muddled mind racing. “Turian _bodily fluids_? That's what laid me out?”

“You went into cardiac arrest, your throat closed entirely, you have a full body rash-” Doctor Chakwas cut herself off, and nodded soberly. “It's incredibly severe. If you were any further away from medical you might have died. And that was just with whatever saliva happened to end up on your hand from the punch you threw. Anything more than that, and-”

“Fuck,” she breathed, knees tightening against her chest, arms wrapping around them. She breathed in through her nose. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. If this gets out...Doc. Someone could _spit_ on me and kill me. You know that?”

“I do,” Chakwas agreed soberly.

“You can't. You can't send the report in. No. Nobody can know about this,” Shepard insisted, fighting the urge to reach up and scratch fingers down her arm. “It has to be reported, too many people saw, but we need to lie. I- there was a mix-up in my ration bars. It was a severe reaction, so just report someone mixed in a dextro bar with the levo, that would be enough to lay me out this bad, right?”

“Even with that, Shepard, you need more time to recover...”

“Fake it till you make it,” she said firmly, shaking her head. “I can pretend through it. Once we're done in Noveria, I'll just sleep, okay? I'll go to my room and sleep as long as I can. I promise. No one can know about this. It'd be like writing my death warrant.”

“I dislike it, but I agree,” Chakwas sighed tiredly. “I'm so sorry, Shepard.”

“I am too, Doc, I know you don't want to lie. Thank you for doing this for me- and for saving my life.”

“It's Garrus that saved your life, Shepard. If he hadn't gotten you here so quickly, there might not have been any saving you.”

“I need to talk to him,” Shepard said. “If he says _anything_ , I can't control this.”

“I think he'll understand, Shepard,” Doctor Chakwas said, with a smile.

Shepard unfolded herself, trying to rise and stand. Doctor Chakwas stepped in and supported her as she swayed to her feet. Their eyes met.

“He'd better. Otherwise I'm dead. Give me the shot.”

“Yes, Commander.”

When the door to the Captain's quarters slid open, all Garrus could think was that Shepard looked tiny.

Faded, pale, in an oversized shirt and sagging pants, her eyes looked larger and darker than ever, and the well-developed muscles he knew were there were hidden in the folds of the clothing. He stepped in far enough for the door to close, but didn't come any closer. He'd almost killed her.

“I'm so sor-”

“Vakarian, I'm-”

They stumbled over each other, and then stopped. Her lips quirked up into a smile that for once didn't reach the rest of her face, didn't seem believable. If a smile could be hurt, it was.

Humans had a lot of smiles.

“No one can know,” she said quietly, a conclusion he'd already come to.

He nodded, and she repeated the motion, relief flooding over her face, slumping her shoulders. He felt exactly the same way. Telling the crew that he'd almost killed Shepard wasn't what he wanted.

He was pretty sure that ended with Alenko's gun to his forehead.

“Doctor Chakwas is falsifying the report. I ate an emergency dextro bar. I was careless,” she said, glancing aside from him, staring at the floor as she recited quietly.

“That doesn't sound like you, Shepard.”

“We all make mistakes, Vakarian.” Her shoulders lifted, and then sagged as she sighed, head falling forward. “I need you on Noveria. I need to pretend I'm at a hundred percent, and as much as I hate to admit it, I can't be. But we can't get planetside without me, and we can't delay. You have to make sure I pull through, that I don't give away how weak I am.”

“Shepard, I need to stay the hell away from you,” he replied, shaking his head. “I could _kill_ you.”

“We don't have that luxury,” she said crisply, lifting her chin. This time the dark, fathomless eyes were reflective. Hard. “You're Turian. You served. I'm a soldier, Vakarian. I _fight_. Do you understand me?” The question snapped through the air, cold and hard.

He did.

She was asking for his help. There wasn't any other choice but the answer that came with a straightening of his shoulders. Kept his chin up.

“I understand.”

“Garrus, I'm trying not to be dramatic here, but honestly you're now the only thing standing between me and death,” she said, expression flat and sober. Her fingers dug into her arm, whitening skin that was still flushed. “If this gets out, any of your people out there who are pissed off at some uppity Human who got named Spectre could kill me in an instant.”

“I get it,” he said, nodding. She wasn't wrong. There was Turian and Human friction everywhere still, even on this ship.

“I need you at my back.”

There wasn't any other answer he'd considered. Their mission was too important. “I'm there.”

The smile that spread across her lips was exhausted, and genuine. “Thank you, Garrus.”

“You're welcome, Shepard.”

A pause stretched between them, and he was about to turn away when she said, “Faith.”

He was confused, wondering if she was asking him about his, or... “Sorry?”

“It's my first name. Faith. My mom doesn't even use it most of the time, so it's- I just thought since you saved my life I should at least give you permission to use it. If you wanted.”

“Oh, it's a name.” He found himself smiling at her surprised little laugh. “Well, I saved you from my taking it, so I don't think it really counts, but- okay. Faith.”

“At least it was you,” she said, shrugging one shoulder. “It could have been so much worse. But it's fine. You need to know your enemy to win the war.”

“The war's over, Shepard. Though I suppose some people don't feel that way.”

“I meant against myself, Vakarian. I've been fighting my whole life against my own body, this is just another battle,” she replied, straightening up. The half-step back was the signal of an impending dismissal, and he nodded and did the same. “I intend to win this war.”

They didn't say anything else. He just left, mind weighted by the sudden responsibility of new knowledge. This was heavy. Standing between Shepard and the rest of the world, helping her carry her secrets.

If that's what it took to stop Saren, then that's what he'd do.


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

The room was warm and soft, all reds and golds and nice dark wood.

It was much more soothing than the last one, with the big couch and the sunlight streaming through big tall windows, but she saw the play table and the box full of toys and it annoyed her. This was a room for kids. She wasn't a kid, and she was getting pretty damn tired of being treated like one.

Pleased with the word, Faith rolled it around in her head as she stared down the therapist in silence, poker-faced. Damn doctors, damn tests, damn clearances.

Fuck it all.

“Could you tell me about what happened at the doctor's?”

“This is only our second session, aren't you supposed to ask me about how I feel about stuff or my favorite music or vids or whatever?” she retorted warily.

Their first session had been like all the other therapists. Friendly, easy, asking little questions to see how she would react. Like all the other damn therapists.

“I have notes from your other doctors, Faith. You tell each of us a different answer to the same questions, every time. Why is that?”

“You mean why do I lie?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Would you like to call it that?”

“Well, yeah, because that's what it is,” she said spitefully. “What does it matter? Tell me what I have to say to you so that they stop keeping me from competing. Tell me what I have to say to get what I _want_. I just want to go to the _damn_ competition.”

Saying the word out loud felt good, but it didn't make the doctor react. Mom would have sighed at her and told her to stop saying it in public. The doctor turned over a page in her silly archaic notebook, and then set it aside, clasping her hands together, wrists on her knees.

“You don't have to trust me. I will tell them you're clear to compete. No matter what happens between you and me, I promise. I'll fill out the form right now in front of you and send it. But in exchange, I want you to try and tell me the truth.”

Dubiously, Faith stared her down, leaning back against the couch and folding her arms. “You're not supposed to do that.”

Picking up a datapad, the therapist brought up the form, and turned it towards Faith so she could see it. Refusing to let her expression crack, she stared at it as the doctor checked off all the boxes, and pressed her thumb to the signature line. She even hit send.

Faith was clear.

“Maybe not, but I've done it. So where's the harm? Can you tell me about the doctor's, Faith?”

She averted her eyes, staring out the window, into the glare of the sun. “Mom says I had a panic attack. Are you gonna give me another medication?”

“If you need it to help you, I will recommend it to your psychologist. Your mother thinks it's the needles. You've had lots of allergy tests in the last five years, it would be understandable if you were tired of the needles-- afraid of them even.”

“I'm not,” she said flatly. “I don't even notice them any more.”

“Then what was it, Faith?”

_At only twelve years of age, Faith Shepard..._

_Sweeping the Youth Olympics at only fourteen..._

_Unfortunately unable to qualify this year due to health concerns..._

Patiently the therapist waited as she sat staring. Her gaze flicked down to the datapad, knowing it was stupid. But the words of the nurse she'd liked so much before were burned into her head, seared into her brain.

_She's almost seventeen now, it's funny how fast the years pass. By the time the Olympics come around again, she'll be eighteen._

“She didn't say only. They stopped saying only,” Faith replied quietly, ashamed of how much it hurt, how deep it had dug into her. “I don't get to be 'only sixteen' because I was too busy being sick, and nobody says 'only eighteen'.”

“Do they need to, Faith?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Her eyes prickled with tears, hot. She could feel the flush, the tightening of her throat. Crying in front of therapists was something she learned not to do a long time ago, because no one wanted to see her cry. They wanted her to smile. Arms in the air.

Victorious.

Breathing in deeply she lifted her chin and smiled the pedestal smile, staring out the window. “Because it's why they're proud of me.”

* * *

“I can't believe someone was dumb enough to mix up the ration bars. Everyone knows the Commander eats them.”

“I had a friend who ate a dextro ration once on a dare. Puked his guts out for days. It came out both ends,” the second voice declared with relish, laughing.

“Well, whoever did it owes me big time. I lost a big chunk of credits on-”

Kaidan's raspy voice interrupted the pair. “Don't you two have work to do?”

There was a sudden scuffle of noise, babbled apologies. When the pair ducked off to engineering they finally came into view around the bulk of the Mako. Garrus watched them go, and then shook his head and went back to work. At least this time there wouldn't be any lava.

There was still some armor plating that needed replacing, but it he'd taken care of the structural damage. The warping was mostly cosmetic. Maybe they could find some replacements on Noveria, if they even let them in.

The last replacement tire was on, and he was in the midst of reattaching the extensive shock system when a shadow cast over him. There was a faint clearing of Kaidan's throat. “Ah. There you are.”

“I'm not a hard guy to find,” Garrus agreed, glancing up and aside. Alenko was armored. Then it was the two of them accompanying the Commander.

“Yeah, listen,” Kaidan said, pausing for a moment. A frown crossed his face, and he ducked his head for a moment before glancing up. Their eyes met. “I was hoping we could talk.”

“Sure.” He likely knew what this was about already. No point in avoiding it. He'd noticed Alenko was trying with the non-human crew, and more and more were following his lead. That was a good thing.

He also knew that Alenko was overprotective of Shepard.

To put it mildly.

“I was thinking that maybe it would be best...if you told the Commander you were going to sit this one out. After what happened yesterday, maybe it's best she has people at her back-”

Garrus interrupted, keeping his voice as easy as he could. “If you have a problem with me coming to Noveria, you should probably take it up with Shepard. She's in charge.”

“I did,” Kaidan said, rather than trying to hide it. Unfortunately for him, Garrus knew there was no way Shepard would be willing to change her mind. Not after what they discussed. “I just know that you have your...priorities. Garrus. Shepard's not one of them. So maybe you should just stay out of the way and let the people who actually have the Commander's best interests in mind watch her back.”

Logically he should have found a way to de-escalate, but somehow it wasn't logic that decided to talk. It was anger, a sudden unexpected surge of it. It curled his fingers into fists, rigid at his sides. His mind replayed the moment she'd fallen, her lifeless body in his arms. Her face white, chest unmoving-- dead. He'd almost killed her.

When Garrus took a step closer, Kaidan stood his ground.

“I'm only going to say this once, Lieutenant. It would be great if we could all get along, but you seem to have a problem with me. Not like the others who have a problem with me because I'm a Turian. You have a problem with _me_.” Kaidan didn't deny it, lifting his chin and folding his arms. Garrus shook his head. “You know what? I'm fine with that. You can keep having a problem with me, and _I'll_ keep having Shepard's back. Like she asked me to.”

He stepped around Kaidan and walked past him, heading for his loadout locker. Best get the rest of his gear together. He could feel Kaidan staring at him from behind, but ignored it. Let him.

“Yo, Garrus! I was wondering where the hell you were! Thought maybe you lost your nerve after I kicked your ass!” Unlike Kaidan's similar greeting, the one shouted at him across the way from Shepard just made him smile.

“Just trying to clean up your mess, Faith,” he shouted back, deliberately using her name as she jogged up to the lockers, grinning. It was a little petty, but Alenko had pissed him off.

Shepard's smile was a good front, but he could see the darkness under her eyes that signaled weariness in humans, and her color was still off. He had to fight not to step back and put some space between them, but he didn't want to make it obvious. Instead he glanced away from her as he spoke, keeping his head turned. “I fixed the tires, but the plating needs replacing and we don't have any on board. Isn't this place some sort of private merchant colony?”

“Something like that. I had to twist an arm to convince them to let me down. Don't tell me you're wanting to go shopping? Jesus, Garrus, this addiction of yours is getting out of control.”

Still about eight feet between them; less than he'd like, but as he pulled his helmet out, at least he could put it between them.

The humor in her voice was a little too forced, but if banter was she needed, he'd oblige. Besides, he enjoyed it. They both turned to their lockers, pulling weapons out. Glancing sidelong, he noted the shotgun and ever-present pistols. “Shepard, long range weapons. Long range.” It wasn't just quipping, not this time. She didn't need to be close in a firefight, not in her current state.

There was a pause, and her grin faded. Finally she nodded, and shoved the shotgun back in, choosing an assault rifle instead. “Right. Whoever gets the most headshots buys the other a- what?” She blinked innocently at the slow shake of his head.

“I'm taking my sniper rifle. You can't win that bet, but I'd be happy to watch you try. You might as well just pay out now, though.”

“You'll eat those words, Vakarian. I'm-” The easy back and forth was interrupted by a small chime from her omni-tool, and she smiled to herself. “Right on time.”

“Hmm?”

“Our little friend. Don't you remember the thief I rescued from the big bad C-Sec?” she teased, smiling as she strapped the rifle to her back. “I set up an account for her at an eatery in one of the wards. It took her a while, but she's hitting it regularly now. Next time we go back I want to see if she's finally ready to chat without running away.”

“You-” Surprised blanked his mind for a moment, before he gave an awkward chuckle. “You know I wasn't gonna take her in, right? Hell, I wasn't even on duty.”

“Well, I didn't know that at the time! All I knew was C-Sec was coming for her,” she retorted, turning and leaning against the locker, facing him. He pretended not to notice she was using it to hold herself up. “How are you doing with all that, by the way? Resigning from C-Sec.”

He paused for a moment, but the easygoing concern in her voice was genuine and hard to resist. “It's- you know, I joined to do the right thing. Put away bad guys. Fight injustice. I guess what we're doing is similar, if pretty different. I feel like I did the right thing, but my father...” He shook his head.

“Disappointed?” she asked sympathetically.

“He's taking it pretty hard. Isn't your mother career Alliance military? How does she feel about you becoming a Spectre? Playing it loose, breaking the rules, answering to nobody?” he asked, trying to get her to smile again. And change the subject.

She smiled an easy, warm smile. “I'm trying not to break the rules as much as I can, Garrus, they exist for a reason. But, you know. Sometimes rules can be a little flexible, if you warm them up first. You know. Turn on the charm.”

“Well, you'd know flexible, Shepard,” Garrus admitted, and this time the smile she flashed him had a wicked edge.

“If I didn't know better, I'd think you were flirting with me, Vakarian.”

When he immediately stalled, mind going blank, she stuttered a long, cheerful laugh. The cuff to his armored shoulder rocked him a little more than it should have, and while he was trying to find a way not to stammer his response, she walked away. He stared after her as she headed for Alenko, a hand checking the pistol at her hip.

The sudden flood of acute self-consciousness didn't fade.

It just kept getting worse.

He never even noticed that she hadn't answered his question about her mother.

Damn it, this was getting complicated.

Shepard had second-guessed taking Kaidan along when he not so subtly tried to convince her not to take Garrus at breakfast. The only reason it'd been subtle, she thought, is because she'd been talking to Tali and Adams and wouldn't let him pull her aside. He and Garrus were definitely keeping their distance. Verbally and physically.

Great.

At least they weren't in the Mako, that'd be a cozy ride.

The tension was starting to get to her, and with the information from Parasini that Matriarch Benezia was on the planet, Shepard couldn't feel right going any further without Liara. It was her mother. Shepard couldn't imagine what it would feel like knowing people were going to confront your family without you, no matter how Liara insisted that they hadn't spoken in years.

Shepard gestured to the other two, noting Garrus still had his helmet on, and turned away for a moment back towards the entrance to the station. She tapped her radio. “Joker.”

“Done so soon, Commander?” he quipped.

“Tell Doctor T'Soni to get suited up, I'll meet her at the entrance so they don't hassle her. I need her with me.”

Out of the corner of her vision she saw Alenko relax. Not for long, though. Sorry Kaidan.

“Probably not good to confront the Matriarch without her,” Garrus said, quietly agreeing.

“Yeah, I'd feel like shit if things go upside-down and she wasn't there. Lieutenant, head back to the Normandy. Maybe next time we'll see some action,” she said, and Alenko stiffened again. Before a damn word could come out of his mouth, she reminded him quietly, “that's an order. Thank you for having my back.”

There was a long pause, tense, his eyes hard and unreadable. Finally he saluted her, pointedly, and turned on a heel. “Yes, ma'am.”

She trailed after him with Garrus, pacing back through the scanner and out into the corridor. Luckily there was no more threats. Parasini was good as her word, even if this place made the back of her neck crawl.

Garrus was still quiet, still keeping his distance. She got it. Almost killing her probably spooked him, and she couldn't blame him at all for that. It'd been a damn spooky situation. Still...

She didn't like it.

Half the reason she liked spending time with Vakarian was because they bounced off of each other so well.

“That's gonna be trouble for you later,” he finally said, as they watched Kaidan stomp around the corner and disappear.

“The Lieutenant is Alliance, he'll understand,” she said, hoping it was true. “I was serious when I told you all to tell me if _anyone_ gives you trouble, Garrus.”

“Nothing I couldn't handle.”

“You shouldn't _have_ to.”

A hint of humor finally crept into his voice. “Faith. Relax. I said I've got it handled.”

Normally she'd never voice any of these thoughts except to a superior officer. It wasn't appropriate. But Garrus wasn't alliance, and it wasn't a stretch to call him a friend, she hoped. “I'm not blind, y'know, I know what's going on. I thought maybe taking him along might help. Re-affirm the chain of command or something.”

“Oh, everyone knows what's going on.”

“Damn,” she cursed.

Garrus chuckled, voice more relaxed. “I don't know if your plan will work, Shepard. He seems like the kind of guy that likes being ordered around.”

“Damn,” she cursed again with a squint, and this time Garrus laughed in earnest. “I really didn't want to have The Talk with him. He's so circumspect that I don't have enough ammo for an official censure, you know? I guess I'll have to do it the uncomfortable way.”

There was a long pause from Garrus, and then he finally admitted with a wry rasp in his dual-toned voice, barely distorted by the helmet's speaker, “all right. If it's to help you, then. Yes, the Lieutenant may have told me to back out of the mission in favor of someone who 'had your best interests in mind'. Keep in mind this is going to make it look like I'm complaining if you confront him, though.”

That was fair. She didn't want to start gossip about the non-humans causing trouble, or being difficult on board. Things were finally starting to relax, and everyone was finding a place to fit in, but renewed tensions might shatter the progress they'd made.

“I won't make it about you, then. But thank you for telling me. Trusting me.” There was a pause between them, and she admitted quietly, “And on that note, I wasn't entirely on the up and up about why I wanted to spar you. I actually need a favor and I thought it might be a good bonding activity before I did. You know. Make you more inclined to say yes. But also I really wanted to spar a Turian so really...multi-tasking.”

He sighed. “You know, you could have just asked me. I did quit my career to go chasing you around because you had a bad dream, Shepard. I think a favor isn't that far of a stretch.”

Relief flooded through her, took away the uneasy tension. The humorous bite in his voice was back. Buoyed by it, she let her voice turn cocky. In the distance, she could see Liara approaching. “By now you're aware of how I like to manage tense situations. Diffuse them, find a way to get along, nudge people in the right dir-”

“Manipulate people?” Garrus asked, at least sounding vaguely amused.

“That's such a harsh word, Garrus,” she chided. “Charm people. And I...am not great at reading Turian facial expressions and intent. Voice? Yeah, you guys are easy to read. Body language? Somewhat. But the rest is escaping me.”

“You want me to teach you how to manipulate Turians,” he said flatly.

“Charm!” she retorted sharply, and then waved a hand. “We'll talk about it later.”

Garrus gave a faint 'hmmh', but thankfully didn't say anything else as Liara quickly approached them, just short of a light jog. She looked worried, confused. Alenko hadn't said anything, then.

“Liara.”

“Shepard?”

“We've been informed that Matriarch Benezia may still be on-planet. I wouldn't face her without you for the world,” Shepard said, and then quickly corrected herself, remembering their complaints from before about how the humans tended to speak. “For anything?”

“I understood what you were saying,” Liara assured her, expression sober now. “Thank you, Shepard.”

“All right. Let's get out of here, we need to get to Peak Fifteen,” Shepard said. As they approached the entrance again, she offered a friendly nod and a smile to the security chief, Matsuo. With a hint of surprise, she returned it.

Sadly, it just couldn't be easy for once.

No, of course not.

Bounced away from the garage and denied exit due to a lack of clearance, stonewalled by Anoleis when looking for a pass, they finally found an opening with charmingly smooth Lorik Qui'in, who Shepard might have enjoyed chatting with for a lot longer if she hadn't been so afraid of spending too much time in his presence. She couldn't let it show, but just being around a Turian that wasn't Garrus was making her nervous.

Jittery.

It was a worrisome reaction, and she knew she hadn't hidden it as much as she meant to when she turned around abruptly and left the table he was lounging at. Garrus was at her side pretty quickly. She just shook her head at him, not willing to say anything in front of Liara. He nodded.

“I can't feel good about killing people just doing their damn job,” she said to both of them as they left the hotel, her voice low and tense. “I refuse to. I'll give them every chance to stand down. I still can't tell who's genuine here...”

“Anoleis was pretty combative, Shepard,” Garrus said. “And rude.”

“That doesn't mean he's in the wrong. Qui'in's too slick to trust. But getting out of here is more important than navigating the complexities of who's corrupt and who isn't. All we can do is our best,” she said firmly, shaking her head.

“It sounded as if you believed Lorik, Shepard,” Liara said uncertainly.

“A fox knows a fox,” she quipped, and then laughed at the look they both gave her. “It's an animal from Earth. They're usually portrayed as tricksters in stories and myths. 'Sly as a fox' is a common saying.”

“Hmmh. It sounds like getting into the Synthetic Insights office is the way to go,” Garrus said dubiously. “But it might be a fight, Shepard.”

She breathed out a sigh through her nose. “It's fine. I've got it covered. If they're being paid under the table to do this, I should be able to convince them to clear the premises. It's not like they're actually doing the job they're _supposed_ to be doing.”

“Optimistic,” Garrus drawled, and then paused short when she spun to face him, eyes going wide. “What?”

“Hopefully nothing,” she replied, dread sinking in.

She already knew it was too late-- the button had been pushed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for every hit, kudos, and comment. <3 They keep the chapters coming!


	7. Chapter 7

“That's one more for me, Shepard!”

The shout rang out, confident and challenging, and despite her frustration Shepard smiled.

It wasn't an expected fight, but it should have been. Still, she'd thought at least they'd be able to get out of the port without another one, but it seemed her luck was thin today. The Geth destroyer that had staggered back from the sniper shot was straightening up already, and she finished taking it down.

“It doesn't count if it gets back up afterwards, Vakarian!”

“You said headshots, not kills!” he snapped back, aiming at the Geth across the way trapped in Liara's biotic field.

Another one went down, sparking and twitching until it collapsed.

“Hell, Garrus, I didn't know you were so scared of me that you have to argue the semantics!” She managed to get it out without her voice faltering, but she had to heave for breath afterwards. Leaning against the Mako in the garage for cover, she let herself sag, just a little. Shit.

She was so tired.

“I should have expected you to change the rules on me just so you don't lose!”

Oh, that was low.

By the time she managed to push herself back up and glance around the cover, the last one was going down. Dropping her rifle, she let out a long breath. A hesitant touch on her shoulder, only felt in the sudden increase in weight, had her shaking her head.

“I just need a second.”

“I think we picked a bad day for a bet,” Garrus replied, hand dropping as she pushed herself up with a shake of her head. A sudden chaos at the doors rang out; she could pick out Matsuo's voice. Garrus snorted. “Great timing.”

“Shepard, are you all right?” Liara asked hesitantly, joining them.

“I'm not a hundred percent yet,” she admitted, pushing up, taking in a deep breath. No point lying to Liara, she'd be able to tell easily enough. “But I need to be. I have some combat stimulants I'll take if I have to. Don't worry, Liara, we've got this. I promise you.”

Pushing away from them both, she straightened her shoulders and paced towards Matsuo, lifting her chin. The security chief turned on her, accusingly. “What did you do here, Commander?!”

Shepard paused, gesturing silently at her chest. Glancing over her shoulder at the dead Geth, and then back at Matsuo, she raised an eyebrow. “Me? Oh, you know, just some light housekeeping. Someone left a mess in here. You know. Geth.”

“Geth? You expect me to--” She stalled as Shepard gestured again, more impatiently this time. Matsuo stopped, took a few steps and craned her neck, and then stopped. Her voice wasn't any less accusing. “Where did they come from?”

“I would assume that the Matriarch packed them in the shipping containers she was said to have arrived with,” Liara said quietly.

“I do not believe that. We did thorough scans of those. There were no power sources, no element zero masses...” Matsuo paused, eyes widening subtly. “If Benezia-sama's containers were packed with these things, there are many more out there.”

“I understand, but I need an estimation,” Shepard said, holding any annoyance in check, keeping her eyes cajoling and easy. “What are we talking here, Captain? Dozens? Hundreds?'

Please not hundreds.

“Dozens, at least. They are machines, you could pack them tightly.” She stepped back, shaking her head. “I must report to the Executive Board. If word gets out about loose Geth, there may be an investor panic.”

She turned around and left with her men, and Garrus snorted as the door slid closed, drawling out slowly, “yes, because _that's_ what matters right now.”

She really wished he wouldn't do that, it was distracting.

“Come on, let's commandeer this vehicle and get out of here,” Shepard said, heaving a long sigh. “I'm done with red tape.”

“Ah, Shepard-” Garrus said hesitantly as she headed for the driver's side of the Mako.

“Don't,” she suggested mildly. “You're on gunnery duty.”

Liara glanced between them curiously for a moment before understanding dawned. “Ah, yes. Surely Shepard can't be _that_ bad of a driver, Garrus.”

“At least there's no lava here, just snow.” He didn't sound terribly pleased.

Shepard swung into the Mako, waiting for them to join her. As her door slid closed, she let out a breath, sinking into the seat. No, she'd be okay.

The doors closed, and Shepard glanced sidelong as Garrus started up the targeting system. “Is this you saying you won't have a snowball fight with me?”

She took the way out of the garage cautiously, and probably a little spitefully. Shepard wasn't interested in hearing any commentary. Usually she could take it in perfectly good humor and give as good as she got, but she just didn't have the energy for it right now.

Yes, she could have had someone else drive, but that wasn't the point.

“Never wanted anything less, Shepard.”

“Spoilsport,” she remarked, regretfully driving around the crest of snow at the top of the slope instead of off it. It would have made a sweet jump. But no, couldn't have people sniping at her about her driving. She could see Liara was tense. Understandably.

Still, a little bit of chatting might help.

“Hey, Liara?”

She kept the pace reasonable, but slow as they followed a cliff edge, much to her regret. What was the point in driving if you weren't going to gun it? Everyone ruined her fun.

“Yes, Shepard?”

“As my new Turian Expert-- this is a title I have created because I'm a Spectre and I do what I want--” Shepard said, ignoring Garrus' look so she could keep a straight face, “is that a constant thing across all Turians? The voice?”

“You mean the flanging? Yes, it is a constant across-”

“No, I mean do they all sound _sexy_? Because I have yet to hear a Turian speak-- and this is across the gender spectrum, mind you-- that I wouldn't happily listen to reading a tax manual.”

Garrus sputtered, and after a surprised moment Liara laughed, sounding less tense. “I ah- was under the impression that you didn't care for Lorik, Shepard.”

“Well he's sure not my biggest fan now, that's for sure,” Shepard said with amusement, remembering his annoyance when she convinced him to testify against Aneolis. “Don't have to like the guy to have a bit of aural appreciation. Smooth as hell.”

“I, ah, I'm pretty sure that's a personal-” Garrus said, surprisingly awkward. When she glanced sidelong at him, puzzled by the abrupt lack of banter, he was staring fixedly ahead.

“It isn't my specialty, but...the answer is yes,” Liara said, interrupting him with soft humor. “The resonance of the flanging heightens the intensity of the sound wavelengths. It does create a particularly pleasant sound experience. In addition, there is some further nuance to Turian voices outside of the hearing range of Asari- and I assume humans, that can be felt as a slight vibration. While subtle, it could be said to enhance the experience.”

“Please stop,” Garrus said, strained.

“Are you _embarrassed_?” Shepard asked, amusement rising sharply.

“Shepard,” Liara scolded softly.

“No, no, I need an answer here,” Shepard denied gleefully, trying not to laugh. “Garrus, are you embarrassed?”

“I have never been more grateful to see Geth in my life.”

Shit.

Humor evaporated, Shepard turned her attention to the task at hand. Unfortunately, it wasn't a single chokepoint, but a series of them set up on the way to their destination. Being outside of the Mako was uncomfortable, and struggling through snow to fight was definitely a bridge too far for her in her current state.

When she just rammed her way past the last Geth blockade, no one was complaining. And they definitely weren't complaining when she stepped on the gas at last, getting them the hell away from the chaos, bullets thudding into the borrowed Mako. Taking a downward slope along the edge of a cliff, a sheer wall on the other side, she gritted her teeth focused intently.

Flying past a turret that hopefully they wouldn't have to deal with on the way out, she skidded around a corner. Taking her foot off the accelerator, she drifted them around the full u-turn, ignoring the death-grips she could see from the other two. Silent commentary, but commentary all the same.

The skidding continued even past the corner, but she could see what looked like the garage they'd need to enter from. That is, she saw it briefly, because the Mako was in a full spin. She wasn't too worried about it, but Liara exclaimed wordlessly in fear. When they thudded into the cliff face, it stopped the turn, which was good enough for her. As soon as the wheels were braced again, she gunned it, jolting up the last slope to the garage.

A rocket exploded behind them.

“One last turret!”

“Hang on!” She retorted, trying to avoid the corpse of the Grizzly half-buried in a snow bank and yet somehow still on fire.

Pumping the breaks, she managed to skid them in a half-circle, stopping directly outside of the garage. While Garrus was still cursing and trying to get a bead on the turret, she was sliding out, grabbing her rifle. It was hard to tell who took it out in the chaos that followed.

Shepard liked to think it'd been her.

“I suddenly understand what Tali meant,” Liara said as she staggered out of the Mako, looking unsteady.

“I am an _excellent_ driver,” Shepard contradicted, feeling a slight tremble in her fingers. Shit. It was time for a pill. “If the goal is to get from A to B as quickly as possible while remaining intact, you could really say I'm the best.”

“Mostly,” Garrus contradicted her.

“Okay, _mostly_ intact. Stop complaining, it's a rental,” she retorted, fumbling in her belt. Stupid gloves. Stupid cold.

“You stole it.”

“Commandeered! Words mean things, people!” she said exasperatedly, heading for the garage.

Garrus and Liara shared a look, which she ignored. Shit, shit. She had to stay on her feet, had to keep going. This wasn't over, not by a long shot.

A door slid open at her approach and she gratefully slipped inside out of the wind and snow, slumping against the wall. As the others trooped in, she pulled off an armored glove, tucking it under her arm. There, that was better.

“Shepard?” Garrus asked cautiously, reaching for her shoulder. When she reached up and pulled her helmet off he put more space between them, hand dropping. She tried not to blame him, but the support had been nice.

“Pill time,” she said simply, pulling the packet of stimulants out of her belt. “It'll perk me up. For now.”

“Is this Alliance regulation?”

“No. It was in special forces, though, for certain critical missions,” she said, tapping out two of the small red pills.

“Does the Doctor know you're taking them?”

“Fuck's sake, Garrus,” she groused, ignoring Liara's concerned look. “She'll know I took them, yes. Scold me later, okay? All right, new rules. Kills only, not headshots. I will reluctantly admit you won the first round, so let's start over from here, huh?” She tried to keep the pleading out of her voice, but failed.

She needed something to focus on that wasn't her body.

Shepard had a lot left in her, but every wall she broke through would mean a longer recovery period.

“That does seem easier to track,” Garrus agreed, to her overwhelming relief. “How are we counting a kill on a Geth though?”

“Once it stops fighting back,” Liara suggested, and smiled as they both glanced at her. “Well, do you expect me to sit out while you both try to outdo one another? I may be a doctor, but I can still fight. I think I've proven that.”

“Winner gets a bottle bought of their choice,” Garrus said.

Shepard clapped her chilled palm to her mouth, slamming back the pills, dry. The slick coating helped, and she managed to swallow them. Nodding her head, she pulled her helmet back on, and then her glove. “Sounds like a plan. Second place buys first place a bottle. Loser has to-”

There she paused, a thought crossing her mind, bringing a smile to her lips. “Loser has to buy something for the crew. A specific human entertainment device. Might be hard to find, so be warned.”

“What would that be?” Liara asked, intrigued.

“I'll tell you later,” Shepard said, with a grin. “We've gotta survive or you'll never find out.”

She led them into chaos.

Shepard was worrying him.

They still fought well together, easily as they had from the start. But being in firefight after firefight at her side, Garrus could see her declining despite the pills. Considering she'd all but died a day before, she was doing incredibly. Just not Shepard-best.

Still, she was more than holding her own, and it wasn't his place to get in front of her- she wanted him at her back, so that's where he was. He was also winning the bet. In his defense, if he threw the contest because she was under-performing he was pretty sure she'd airlock him. Not that he would have.

They were both competitive.

“What the fuck are these damn bugs?” Shepard asked, leaning heavily against her cover, the wind whistling by them on the roof of the facility.

“Xenobiology is not my field,” Liara said breathlessly, gun still at the ready. “Maybe someone in the labs knows.”

Shoving herself up with a shoulder, Shepard grimaced and continued slogging on. “Yeah, I'm sure they'll be chatty. You know, if alive. Locate the landline, we need to get it repaired. I am so over this place already.”

“You're telling me,” he said, trying to keep his voice light. “Exploding bugs, _and_ snow? Shepard, you take me to the best places.”

She laughed roughly, shoulders squaring. “I know how to show a guy a good time.”

It was an easy bit of banter, but her words earlier were stuck in his head and he couldn't quite seem to shake them. There was a difference between banter and flirting. There was another difference between flirting and active flirting, specifically sexual or romantic interest.

Which he'd convinced himself was not the case until she'd gone and called his voice 'sexy'.

Well, not him specifically, but...

The repairs performed, the VI eventually led them to their next part of the task-- bringing the generator online. Navigating the place wasn't too hard, but it was expansive. This was taking a lot longer than he'd expected. Shepard's light jog was gone, and now she paced along at a steady, dogged pace, gun held crosswise in both hands.

Cutting down Geth, they eventually found the source of the generator malfunction- “Fuel line's cut, I've got it,” he said, clapping Shepard's shoulder as he brushed past her on the catwalk. She didn't protest, slumping against the railing.

“Shepard, you...I'm sorry, but you really don't seem as if you're doing well,” Liara said, worriedly from behind him as he worked.

“I'm conserving my strength, don't worry, Liara,” Shepard assured, voice so confident he almost believed her. “I've got at least a second wind, third, and maybe a fourth in me if I push really hard. I've done extensive endurance training, I'm nowhere near my actual limit. Part of my training involved a hundred mile, sixty hour race that you start in the middle of the woods, in the middle of the night. They wake you up from a sound sleep. That's the last time you sleep 'till it's done.”

She pushed off the railing as the generator hummed to life, giving him a grateful nod. He returned it. Shepard turned and they began the trek back to the elevator as she spoke. “It's a single track, there's two mile-long crawling sections through manmade caves, some vertical ascents, over a dozen water-crossings, mud up to your knees in places, and a lot of brambles. Hell of a view, though. And that was just part of my N1. After that they started sending us off-world.”

“There's only seven ranks, aren't there?” Garrus asked.

“Yeah. Funnily enough, N2 was one of the worst for me. Dropped us in on a desert moon in heavy gear for part of the tests. I'm not great with heat, being a pasty redhead and all. Hallucinated some fun shit. One percent make it to N6, and a scant fraction of a percent get through the tests and live combat to get their N7.” She didn't say it with the pride he would have assumed. Just matter-of-fact.

“Impressive, Shepard,” Liara said.

She was impressive.

The words 'for a human' weren't even being added to the end. She was just impressive. And she'd called his voice sexy...but that didn't mean anything, really.

“I was the youngest to ever graduate N7, not that it's a big sample size,” Shepard said, and this time there _was_ pride in her voice. “I quit my career to go military, so I promised myself I'd give it every damn thing I had.”

They navigated their way to the tram station. The conversation helped, not just Shepard, but all of them. This place was empty and unsettling.

“Your...career? But you said you were the youngest graduate,” Liara said, puzzled. “I was under the impression that humans had lifespans similar to Turians. Do you mature quickly?”

“We're generally considered grown at twenty, and our brains finish developing at twenty-five,” Shepard said, tapping fingers on her rifle. “I started my first career at the age of five. I quit when I was seventeen and started at the military academy my mother had gone to.”

Liara turned her head and gave Garrus a shocked stare, head tilting questioningly. He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. It sounded as bizarre to him as it did to her.

“That is...”

“Unusual, I know. I was a driven child.” Her voice was grim, and then she smiled, shaking her head. “Stubborn.”

“Still are,” Garrus drawled. She gave a short, sharp laugh.

“Anyways, some sports are for the young. The older you get, the stiffer your joints get as a human. In the military? I'm only going to get better as I age,” she said, and then quietly under her breath, so much so that he almost missed it, “I _have_ to.”

The words were in his head as they breached the tram station and ended up back in combat. They pushed through, and she was fading even more. Or...he'd thought she was.

As soon as they broke through into the lab facility and came face to face with living people, the exhaustion was gone. Her voice was crisp, posture perfect, and she fought with even more speed and precision than she had when they'd first reached Noveria. It was like she was a whole new woman.

A different one.

As they headed towards medical, the new Shepard glanced sidelong at Liara. Her voice was crisp and cold, distant. “Rachni?”

“They're extinct,” Liara said. She paused, and finally said, slowly, “or were. They were supposed to have been wiped out by the Krogans during the Rachni Wars.”

“Should have been more thorough,” Garrus said.

Shepard gestured them to silence as they entered medbay. He wasn't sure why, until he saw all the people laid out. He wasn't familiar with Alliance hand gestures, but the two fingers lifted subtly to them as she spoke to the doctor was clear enough.

So he stood there and said nothing, shoulder to shoulder with Liara.

C-Sec was different than military, though there was a chain of command for both. Still, he'd gotten used to more leeway, less rigid orders. More trying to weave through red tape to get done what needed to get done, rather than just following orders.

Usually Shepard seemed to ride a line, relaxed and easy until it was time to go to work. Then she took on a voice that reached down deep and flipped all the switches in the brain that told him to shape up and follow his commanding officer. Right now that side of her was in complete control.

When she finished speaking to the doctor it was still entirely in command, but he could see the tension in every step.

“Bioweapons,” she said icily under her breath. “Always someone willing to do the wrong thing for a fucking profit. The worst part is, though, the worst part is- underneath him are hundreds of people who do the wrong thing for _pennies_ of that profit.”

“It's easy to follow orders,” he said, and her smile was wide and humorless.

Sharp as a knife.

It was easy to follow _her_ orders. He trusted her as a Commander by now, and he appreciated being able to have her back. He appreciated...more than he'd realized.

“Let's get him his antidote. And destroy every bit of his research we can get our hands on while we're at it,” she said quietly. “I'm not going to take the bits in his head. Just everything outside of it. Though what we find may change that.”

He didn't doubt for a second that she'd follow through on that threat.

Once they'd finally gotten access to the hot lab, he could see her fading again. Her voice lost its edge, her shoulders began to stoop again. This time when she pulled out the pills, slumping against a wall, it was Liara that spoke up.

“Shepard...”

“Just a little longer,” Shepard promised, flashing her ordinary, cocky little smile, helmet under her arm. “Just a little further.”

She clapped her hand to her mouth, tossing the pills back. When she pulled on her helmet, twisting it into place, she straightened up again. There was a slight sway to her stance, but it looked controlled-- like when they'd been sparring.

They didn't have to travel much more.

They found Benezia at last, but there was no time for negotiation. The place flooded with Asari commandos, with Geth, pinning them from every angle with the overwhelming biotic power of the Matriarch behind them. Liara fought like more than her life depended on it, but Shepard...

Well.

He met a third Shepard.

The crushing biotic field lifted the crates in front of him, and he cursed as his cover was taken from him. He needed a better vantage. Gazing up, he stalled briefly at the sight in front of him. Poised, clinging to the crate that was being lifted into the air, Shepard had a rifle in hand and only three fingers and a foot clinging to the slowly-turning container.

“Shepard!” Liara cried out in terror.

Vaulting _off_ of the crate fifteen feet in the air, Shepard disappeared, firing as she fell.

Forcing himself to move, he jolted up the stairs, hunting for a vantage point to control the battle. They'd started in a tactically unsound place. He couldn't track Shepard, not from the floor.

Making it to the upper level, he took a position and lifted his rifle, peering through the scope.

Just in time to watch Shepard _headbutt_ an Asari commando, sending her staggering back, bleeding.

He finished the commando with a single bullet, and Shepard lifted her middle finger over her shoulder as the dark body collapsed. Garrus smiled to himself and shifted his view, catching a Geth arriving through a doorway. With three controlled hits, he managed to take it down, trying to keep the reinforcements back and away from Liara.

He flashed back to Shepard frequently, but she seemed to have the battlefield well in hand. She moved as lithely as she did out of armor, but wildly, uncontrolled now. She swayed constantly, but every step was deliberate, every move calculated. He'd seen her free of armor, but somehow this was even more graceful for the burden. Every now and again he could hear her shouting from below.

Mostly swearing.

A lot of very inventive swearing.

When they finally came back together in the central chamber to face Benezia, Shepard's helmet was cracked but she was steady. Strong. Enough to support Liara when they had to fight her again and Benezia fell at last.

She slumped, lifeless, and Shepard immediately moved to Liara's elbow.

“I'm all right,” Liara insisted, but leaned into the touch. Shepard reached a hand down to Liara's waist, and he pulled his gaze away. A private touch.

He knew that humans touched each other like that, and normally it wouldn't even be noticed, but Shepard doing it was somehow noticeable. The curve of her waist, her hips, visible even in armor, felt somehow intimate-

Oh.

_Oh no._

“I know you're not, and it's okay, Liara,” Shepard replied, with an easy warmth to her voice. “It's okay, and-”

One of the bodies rose from the floor, and it dragged him out of his unsettled revelation. He swung his rifle around, but Shepard lifted a hand as the seemingly-dead commando staggered towards the containment tank. Faith released Liara and followed in silence.

Garrus' mind was a mess as Shepard released the Rachni queen with barely a thought and led them out of the facility. He kept staring at her back. The revelation lingered in his head, but was pushed aside as they fought back to the tram.

Shepard was laughing, swearing, swaying. She kept going. They struggled free, escaped, and this time she let him drive after a few tense moments. Liara manned the guns.

Shepard kept up the easy, quiet conversation, soothing for Liara. But he could see the way she slumped in her seat-- conserving strength, maybe. But did she have any strength left to conserve?

Garrus focused on finishing the mission.

They made their way back to the port, and the only time he said anything was when he saw her hand going to her belt.

“We're almost back,” he said, and her hand paused. When it fell limply back in her lap instead of reaching for the pills, he exhaled in relief.

“Well, I can't tell, Garrus. Shit, you drive slower than my grandma,” she said, a laugh stuttering over her words. “Hey, who won?”

“I did,” he replied, chuckling. “Both times.”

“Okay, so who got last...?”

“I did,” Liara said, chagrined and withdrawn. “I suppose I am meant to go hunting for whatever mysterious device you require, Shepard.”

“I will let you know before we dock. We're going to Citadel next to deal with some things,” Shepard said quietly, and then huffed a sigh. “Second isn't bad.” She didn't sound as if she believe it at all. “What do you drink, Vakarian?

“Whatever's expensive, Shepard,” he said, just to make her laugh.

He kept trying to make her laugh.

They made their way back through the port, Shepard, waving off any demands for attention. She ignored it all. When Matsuo tried to stop them at the entrance to demand a debriefing, somehow Shepard's hard stare convinced her to step back, calling off her people.

They returned to the Normandy.

People were waiting inside, but Shepard just smiled her easiest smile, waving them all off. She tapped her radio, pacing across the floor. He followed, even when Liara peeled away for her locker. Shepard moved easily, but with a mechanical stiffness.

“Hey, Joker. We need to head to the Citadel. I'd love to get off this snowball, huh?”

“You've got it, Commander. Debrief?”

“Soon,” she agreed, and her voice cracked over the word. She was losing control, he could hear it in her voice. He could see it in the slight drag of her foot.

Garrus picked up his pace, ignoring the curious stares as he came up right behind her. The last thing he needed right now was anyone following after them. They left the garage, heading for medical, and he glanced over his shoulder to ensure things were clear. No one seemed to be following them yet.

They curved around a corner, into a hallway.

“Faith, no one is watching,” he said quietly.

Immediately she went limp, too fast for him to anticipate. Still armored, helmeted, he dove forward, catching her body before her head hit the floor. Landing on his knees, he scooped her up in her arms. His eyes fixed on her chest, a sudden icy fear twisting in his chest. Last time she hadn't been breathing.

Her chest slowly rose.

This time she was breathing.

The relief that flooded through him as he picked her up was twisted up with his earlier revelation, as he carried her the rest of the way to the doctor. Somehow, despite everything, he'd gotten attached. To Shepard. A _human_.

And if he wasn't in his armor, he'd probably kill her.


	8. Chapter 8

Going from a dead sleep to full alertness was common for Shepard by now.

She just wasn't used to doing it with an audience. There was no pillow, no gun to reach for, and she groped blindly at the medical bed with one hand, her mind churning with confusion as adrenaline surged through her system. When she finally realized what she was doing, everything clarifying, embarrassment flooded her.

“Hey, Shep,” Ashley said cautiously from the other bed, out of the corner of her vision.

“Eternal vigilance,” Shepard joked weakly, glancing over at them. Doctor Chakwas was thankfully not even looking at her, in the midst of putting away supplies. “You okay?”

“Yeah, absolutely. Burned myself on a heat sink I was trying to rep-” Ashley stopped when Doctor Chakwas gave her a sidelong, vaguely disapproving look. Williams just laughed. “Okay, I may have been trying to modify it.”

The doctor scoffed faintly. “Hmmh. How long have you been suffering confusional arousals, Shepard?”

“Woah, woah, what?” Shepard asked defensively, wiping her eyes. “My what now?”

Ashley laughed.

“Waking up abruptly, bypassing the sleep inertia phase. It's called a confusional arousal, Shepard,” Doctor Chakwas said, looking equally exasperated with them both.

“Oh, uh,” she pinched the corners of her eyes. “Three years or so. Since the Blitz.”

“You woke up three times over a six hour period,” Doctor Chakwas said, tilting her head. “Are you fully aware this time?”

“I...am. I don't remember waking up before, though.”

“No, I imagine not. We'll discuss it later. You're not fully rested, Shepard. Go eat something and go back to bed. That's an order. Gunnery Chief Williams...please don't blow yourself up.”

“Yes, ma'am,” they both chorused.

Sliding off the medical bed, grateful to still be in her under-armor suit and not in a medical gown or something equally embarrassing, Shepard tilted her head to the side at Williams. She nodded, and they trooped out together. Shepard glanced back at the door to the lab once, debating going to speak to Liara. But not yet.

She should give her some space.

“You crashed hard, Shep,” Williams said with a chuckle. “You know, you could have taken a day off after eating that dextro bar. I can't imagine your insides were happy with you.”

They passed the mess and headed into the corridor.

“You can't? I lived it. But you know, if I was going to shit myself to death anywhere, it might as well be on Noveria in front of a bunch of Asari commandos. No, no. Had to get done. Doctor worries, and that's fine, I didn't mind letting her watch me sleep.” How she'd gotten there, though, she didn't know. Hopefully she hadn't collapsed in front of the crew. She didn't remember anything after releasing the Rachni queen, actually. It was all a blur.

“You're tough as hell,” Ashley said approvingly. “Don't worry. Doctor T'Soni and the Turian debriefed us.”

“His name is Garrus,” Shepard replied, far too tired for this bullshit this morning. She'd been tip-toeing around Williams for a while now, because at least she kept her opinions mostly to herself, but after Noveria she had no patience left for it. They stalled in the corridor. Hopefully out of sight and sound.

She hadn't looked to see if anyone was in the mess.

“Right,” Ashley said with a roll of her eyes. “Shep, I-”

“No. I read your file. I know where this is coming from, I've always known, but-” Keeping her voice low in case anyone was in the mess, she turned to face Williams. “I'm done. I'm extremely done. Fought hordes of killer bugs, red tape, watched Liara have to fight her own _mother_ , and you wanna sit here and buddy buddy me like I'm gonna wink at you when you say shit about people I've gone through hell with? That Turian has saved my life. Repeatedly.”

“But in the end, none of them give a shit about humanity, Shep. We have to-”

“They might give a shit about you, if you gave them half a chance. Right now you're not on my team. Garrus is. You can't be on my six unless you have the back of every single other person on my team, and I can't trust you if you don't. End of story. We're having twenty four hours of shore leave on Citadel. At the end of those twenty four hours, you either come here and tell me you're on my team.” She could feel her voice rising, and Shepard was too tired to hide it any more. So she gave up and let the internal drill instructor come out. Short, brusque, and from the diaphragm.

“Or you get the HELL off my fucking SHIP, Williams.”

Ashley's face paled, and she stared at Shepard. Her gesture of dismissal was short and sharp, because Shepard sure as hell wasn't going to be the one walking away from this confrontation. After a few seconds, Ashley finally spun, walking away at a fast clip.

Shepard watched her go until the far door opened and closed. Reaching up, she rubbed her eyes. Fuck was she ever tired.

The slow, sarcastic applause from behind her could have only been one person, and at least it wasn't someone she was dreading seeing right now. Walking backwards, she stuck her head around the corner and glared at Joker. Unfortunately, he was sitting with Garrus and Wrex, and one of the crew from engineering. Anjali Anand. That was her name.

Always remember the names.

“I will wear you as a human skin suit,” she threatened Joker, and then sighed as he gestured her over. “I am too tired for this shit.”

“Listen, Hope,” he retorted, continuing over her sarcastic 'har har', “you gotta eat something. You're always cranky when you're hungry.”

“What are you, my mom, decorated Alliance Captain Hannah Evangeline Marie Shepard?”

“Ma'am, are you really giving us twenty-four?” Anjali asked quietly, eyes tracking her as she crossed to pull down a bar. And then a second one.

She might hate being babied, but underfeeding herself to prove a point was fucking stupid. “Yeah, I remembered that most of you probably haven't gotten to check out Citadel before. I have some things to get done, so it seemed a good time for a shore leave.”

“When does the Commander get shore leave?” Joker asked, and then sighed at her shrug. “C'mon, Joy.”

“Would you knock that off?” She grabbed a chair and pulled it around. Far as she could get from Garrus. It was one thing when there was armor between them, but now he gave her the same uneasy feeling that Lorik had.

At least he probably wanted to kill her about as much as she wanted him to. She nudged her shoulder into the Krogan next to her, and he returned the favor.

“Wrex.”

“Shepard.”

“Well, I hope you set aside a little time to pick up my prize,” Garrus drawled, and then laughed. “Both of them. Considering you lost _both_ the headshot competition and the kill-count.”

Wait, what? She'd lost?

Damn it.

“I don't recall actually calling a prize for the first contest,” she said, unwrapping the bar. “So, really...one.”

“Chastity-” Joker started, and then laughed at her warning look. “Where is your honor, Commander?”

“Noveria,” she replied from around a mouthful of stodgy, grainy bar. “Exploded in bug goo. Terribly sad. We held a funeral for my honor. All right. Two bottles. But keep in mind when I've actually not been poisoned, I _will_ be kicking your ass.”

“Looking forward to it,” Garrus said.

“So have you just been sitting here bragging about kicking my ass while I was asleep?”

“Yes,” Joker said before Garrus could speak. He grinned. “Go easy on the guy, Shepard. He has so little to be proud of in his life. Just a sad, sad little man...”

“Here we go,” Garrus said with sarcastic amusement.

“Just a sad man with no social life, polishing his guns alone in his room...both literally and figuratively.”

“Just because I won't introduce you to any 'Turian babes',” Garrus said, and Shepard could hear the air quotes, “does not mean I don't know any. I just won't introduce them to _you._ ”

“Oh, wow. Anti-human prejudice much, Garrus?”

“No, no,” he said with a smile. “Just Anti-Joker prejudice.”

The easy, friendly banter was a relief. Every sign that they were folding into the crew made things like the confrontation with Williams a little easier to bear. It was working.

“He has a point,” Shepard said, biting off another corner of the bar. “You are terrible. This is why we got divorced, you know.”

“We got divorced because you sold my kidneys on the black market,” Joker retorted, poking at the apple pie sludge that still looked wholly unappetizing, even to her.

“I needed to pay for my drug habit somehow. You're so selfish,” she said absently, the banter so ingrained that it didn't even need thinking about. “Joker, if you're here, who's flying the ship?”

“SHIT!” he shouted, throwing both hands in the air. Anand startled, eyes round. A couple seconds passed, and he dropped his hands and shrugged. “Guess we're all gonna plunge into a star and die.”

“Guess so,” Shepard said, picking up the second bar she definitely was not going to enjoy choking down. “Hey, do _I_ get to be introduced to any Turian babes?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Garrus agreed, and they shared a smile. Shared the joke neither of them would say out loud. Better to make it into a joke, maybe that'd purge some of this itchy panic in her gut at the thought of standing within ten feet of one of them.

She didn't want anyone making the accusation that she hated Turians.

“Asshole,” Joker said spitefully. He shook his head, and sighed. “Ah well. I mean, can Turians and humans even _do_ that?”

“Yes,” Shepard said absently, scanning the wrapper of her second bar. When no response was forthcoming, she glanced up and surveyed the faces around the table staring at her. “What? Did you really not know that?”

“Uh- I think it's more how did _you_ know that?” Joker said, disbelieving.

“My ex,” Shepard said, amused by the various expressions around the table. Finally she admitted, “Wasn't Turian, no. She was an Asari huntress I did some training under when I was benched after the Blitz for health reasons. Aeian. You think I didn't ask questions, Joker? Shit, you said it yourself. The first questions of humanity, right?”

“Well yeah, but you never told me you dated an Asari, Shep,” Joker said, disbelieving.

“People can be weird about it still,” she shrugged one shoulder. “Besides, dating is pushing it. We didn't get out much, if you know what I mean.”

Wrex laughed, slapping her on the shoulder. Ouch. Letting the hearty smack rock her, Shepard grinned, shaking her head.

“I feel like I don't even know you,” Joker sighed with a shake of his head.

“Well, I know you don't have a love life, Joker, so I don't want to make you feel bad,” she said, dodging to the side when he threateningly lifted a fork full of spaghetti. “Don't you fucking dare.”

“Are you going to see someone special on the Citadel, Commander?” Anand asked, sounding a little less timid. Good.

“Me? Well, you could say that, but not in a romantical sense. Just gonna say hi to a kid I know.” Frowning she glanced down at her omni-tool, realizing it hadn't pinged her. She brought up the account, forehead furrowing.

“Shepard?” Garrus asked.

“She hasn't hit the account in two meals. I'm sure it's nothing,” Shepard replied, lifting her shoulders in a shrug as she dropped her arm. The sudden lack of banter made her realize just how fucking tired she was. And she'd promised the Doctor. “All right, you assholes and Anand...'

“Hey!” Joker protested.

“I can be an asshole,” Anand said with a smile.

“Fine! Then you're all assholes! And this asshole is going to sleep before the doctor comes out here with a tranq-gun and shoots me. I suggest you all get rest as well so you can party all night and then show up for roll a hungover mess after shore leave, as is tradition!” Shepard slapped both hands down on the table and rose.

“Oh great, Commander's reverting to boot camp.”

“We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender!” Shepard retorted in her best oratory voice, moving to toss her ration wrappers away.

Joker sighed. “Commander, go sleep before you start reciting the Art of War again.”

“The greatest victory is that which requires no battle,” she said serenely, cuffing his chair lightly as she passed by on her way out.

“Shepard, can you spare a minute, or are you too delirious?” Garrus asked.

“I got three for you, Garrus,” she said with a half grin. “One for each finger. Hey, that's convenient. It'd suck if you guys had four, then you couldn't flip people off.”

“You've got your priorities, that's for sure.”

He followed her as she headed into the corridor, and she was grateful she could let the smile drop. The jittery feeling in her chest only got worse, though, especially when she turned to face him and realized how close he was. When she took a couple nervous steps back, he lifted his hands carefully.

“Faith...”

“Sorry, it's not on purpose,” she replied immediately, strained. “I hope you know it's not-”

“I get it,” he assured, not sounding pleased all the same. “If you could spit in my face and kill me I'd keep my distance, too. Are you okay?”

“I ah- don't remember much after the fight with Benezia,” she admitted, and he nodded. “Did I make an idiot of myself in front of the men?”

Garrus hesitated for a second, and she really wished she could read his face. See what he was thinking. “No, you held it together and got yourself to the med bay,” he finally said.

Except that wasn't the whole truth, or he wouldn't have hesitated. Well, at least he she hadn't collapsed in front of the crew. That was something.

“Good. Listen, if this is about Williams-”

“Thank you,” he replied, quietly. There was an odd intensity to his voice. “It meant a lot to hear you say that. I didn't hear it all, but I heard enough that- thank you. And...now I've made things awkward. Sorry.”

“No,” she retorted, fighting off her own grimace and shaking her head. “I'm just a little embarrassed I lost my temper like that. I try very hard not to be that kind of Commander. I had a few in my day that I wasn't too fond of, but- I meant it. Every word. And I hope you know it's not about you being a token Turian, or a- a 'get along with aliens' teaching tool...”

“Not just?” he asked, with a hint of humor.

She couldn't lie about that. “Not just,” she said, hanging her head. “I guess I've showed you my cards too many times for you to believe I do anything without an ulterior motive, huh?”

“It's an interesting sort of efficiency, Shepard. But...I'm not offended. Just getting used to how you operate, that's all.”

“I know I tend to come at things sideways and I am kind of a 'keep the peace' sort of person, but I want you to know I have your back. Just like you have mine. I will stand up for you.”

“I didn't really believe it before, but now I do,” he admitted.

She deserved that.

“Well...you're welcome. I'm glad I could convince you of my sincerity. Less glad I lost the bet, but there's always next time, huh?”

“Next time,” he assured her, taking a step back. “I'll be happy to give you as many chances to lose as you like, Shepard.”

“Oh, ha ha. I'm gonna knock you off that podium, Vakarian, just you wait. Flat on your back.”

“Well, apparently you know a thing or two about getting Turians on their back, don't you Commander? Maybe I _should_ be worried,” he retorted, and her mind went blank.

Actually blank. It never did that. It had to be exhaustion, or- she could feel the heat creeping up her cheeks, and all that managed to escape was an 'uh'. Eyes wide, she tried to cobble together enough brain cells for a response.

“Are you embarrassed?” he asked her, and then laughed at her wordless accusation. She lifted a finger and pointed at him, but he just grinned. “What's the matter, Shepard? Answer the question. Are you embarrassed?”

“You-” she accused, and he laughed, a genuine, open laugh. “I'm sorry, is this some sort of revenge?”

His laugh faded, but she could tell he was still smiling. If a Turian smile could be smug, his was. “Now why would I need to get revenge?”

“Congratulations, you're now tied with Joker for worst friend I have,” she said irritably, crossing her arms. When he just stared at her, smile fading, she snapped, “what?”

“I, ah- that's just the first time a human's ever called me that,” he admitted, dropping his head with a smile. It made her smile, too.

“Yeah, well, you have more than you realize. You and Joker are gonna be buying matching friendship bracelets any day now,” she said, taking a half step forward. Her hand was lifting to cuff him on the shoulder, but she stopped herself, fingers curling in towards her palm as her hand dropped. They both took a step back.

“I ah-”

“It's okay. I don't wanna go down in history as the guy who killed Commander Shepard. Good night.”

He turned around and walked back to the mess, and she watched him go. Reaching up, she pressed a hand to her chest, even though she already knew her pulse was going a mile a minute.

Maybe it was _her_ that should be worried.

As people filtered off the ship, Shepard wandered in to the lab at last, feeling more rested.

Her mind was still uneasy, though, unsettled. Her brain wouldn't stop yelling at her. It was like one of those three-d pictures, where you had no idea what it was until it came into focus, and then all of a sudden it-

Shit.

Yes, she was a flirt. She'd been a flirt all her life, and she flirted with everyone, it was just her personality. She was flirting with Garrus a lot, and very publicly, and normally that'd be nothing at all to think about except for one small fact.

She didn't flirt with anyone else like that when _he_ was there.

“Shit,” she muttered to herself, stopping where she was and staring at the floor.

It was like she'd been making some sort of public-

“Shepard?” Liara asked softly.

Glancing up with a blink, Shepard realized she was standing in the doorway of the lab already. Oops. “Shit, sorry, just a lot on my mind, Liara. I wanted to check in.”

“It's kind of you to do so, Shepard, but...” Liara trailed off, and Shepard wandered in, leaning against a counter. “I will be fine. I...I'm grateful you were there, that you brought me. Thank you so much.”

“Absolutely,” she said, and then remembered what she'd said to Garrus last night, and how he'd reacted. It wasn't enough to treat people like friends, the words mattered, too. “I hope you can consider me a friend in time. I respect and like you, a lot.”

“Shepard, that's-” Liara paused, and inclined her head. “Thank you. I feel the same way.”

“It was rough. And, it's probably going to feel rough for a while. Take any time you need, don't hesitate for a moment to tell me if you're not feeling up to-”

“Shepard,” Liara interrupted gently. “Really, it's all right. Are you-” She paused, and then smiled as Shepard gestured for her to continue. “Are you close with your mother?”

“I'm-” Boy, that was a complicated question. But she couldn't go asking people to confide in her and then clam up on them. “I try. She's a hard person to be close to. I've tried all my life, but by now I'm kind of resigned to the fact that my mom isn't really the kind of mom you see in vids. She's interested in accomplishments, not people.”

“A hard person to be close to...” Liara murmured. “I understand that.”

“But she loves me and she's proud of me, just like your mother was of you. And that means a lot. I'm one of those people who wants everyone to like them, who wants the validation of it. It's hard to acknowledge that you can't always have that. My therapist is paid very well,” she quipped.

“Well, I find you to be very easy to like, Shepard.” They shared a smile in comfortable silence for a few seconds. Liara broke it with a small shake of her head. “I shouldn't keep you. You're heading into the Citadel? I'm just finishing up here, and then I will be going myself.”

“Yeah, I've got to go schedule a meeting with the Ambassador, and a few other things. You know. Show my face,” she confirmed with a nod.

“Oh, that reminds me- the device I am supposed to locate.”

“Liara, you really don't have to-” Shepard protested.

“A bet is a bet, Shepard.”

“Ah hah, right. Well, don't feel too bad if you can't find one, okay? It's called a karaoke machine,” Shepard said with a small, amused quirk of her lips. Liara tilted her head, expression intrigued. “I'll show you how it works if you find one. It'll require alcohol, though.”

“Alcohol?” Liara asked, and then laughed when Shepard winked at her. “All right. I suppose I'll find out soon enough. If you see Tali will you ask if she would like to come with me?”

“You got it. Happy hunting!”

Leaving the lab, Shepard felt a bit more relaxed. It was nice to touch base with people. If Tali was still in, she could have a chat with her before she left. With that in mind, she headed down that way, nodding to the few people left on board. She'd even gotten Pressley to take some time for himself. Would wonders ever cease?

Crossing the garage, she took a quick glance at the Mako. Right, still needed those replacement panels. She'd have to add that to her list of-

“Shepard?”

Pausing, she half-turned, keeping a friendly, but bland smile on her face. Now was really not the time she wanted to have a talk, so hopefully he was just heading out. “Lieutenant Alenko. Heading out to enjoy your shore leave?”

“I thought we weren't doing that any more,” he replied with a smile, pausing. It was a pretty nice smile, she had to admit. Probably would have worked on her in any other circumstances.

“What can I say, I'm Alliance through and through.”

“Yeah,” he said, smile unabated. “Are you heading out? I thought maybe you might like some company.”

“I appreciate the thought, Alenko, but I'm still on duty, more or less,” she said easily, lifting a hand. “I have some meetings to make and some supplies to find and purchase.”

“I don't mind,” he said, completely ignoring the easy out she was giving him. “Work goes faster with company, doesn't it?”

Her altercation with Williams was weighing on her mind, bringing guilt with it. It would be easy to whip out regs right now and cut him down to size, and part of her wanted to, but- she didn't want to be that Commander. She didn't want to be an asshole.

“I'm good, Alenko, just enjoy your shore leave. I'll feel guilty if you don't.”

“Are you sure, Faith?”

Okay.

That was definitely a boundary being tested.

“I prefer Shepard,” she replied stiffly. “Or Commander. Thank you.”

To his credit, his voice didn't get too tense, but she could see it in his eyes. “I must have been mistaken because Vakarian calls you-”

“Vakarian isn't Alliance,” she said crisply, feeling herself falling into her official voice. “He is following my orders by choice, and I am grateful for it, but he is _not_ Alliance.”

“So why are you trusting him so much? Commander, I'm trying to understand, but it's difficult. You could have sent _him_ back. Why didn't you? I should have been fighting beside you!”

He was trying to understand?! Oh, how fucking magnanimous of him.

She could have reasoned out of it, easily. Didn't need two biotics on the squad. She needed to test Garrus more. She needed a sniper for the job.

Unfortunately, Shepard was pissed.

“The instant it's ANY of your business, Lieutenant Alenko, you will be informed! If you find me choosing my own squad so goddamn onerous, you can recuse yourself from joining them in the future!”

They were both Alliance through and through. The voice cut through, and he immediately straightened, shoulders squaring. She stared him down, arms folding across her chest. He didn't interrupt her.

He knew when it was time to speak.

“Soldier, you seem to be under the impression that my goddamn genial nature means that you can forget regulations! I assure you, that is very far from the goddamn truth! You have taken me for granted, and I am no longer entertaining willful ignoring of the boundaries of appropriate behavior, is that clear, Lieutenant?!”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“I can't fucking hear you!”

“Yes, ma'am!”

She walked around him, staring at the side of his face as he stared straight ahead. “Good.” Reaching up, she clapped him on the shoulder briskly. “Enjoy your leave, Alenko. Excused.”

He didn't even glance in her direction as he walked away.

Shepard let out a breath through her nose, feeling her shoulders slump. Well that was...definitely not addressing the actual problem, or de-escalating.

Dumbass.

“Good job fucking it up.”

“I don't know, I thought you handled it pretty well.”

Shepard closed her eyes and let out a strained sigh through her nose. “Do you just eavesdrop on me every time I have to yell at someone?”

“Hey, I'm an innocent party here,” Garrus replied.

She wandered around the bulk of the Mako, leaning an arm on it as she stared down at him. Well, down at what she could see of him, which was the lower half or so. Squinting, she shook her head slowly. “Honestly I really should have known not to yell at Alenko in the middle of the garage, I'm sure you're not the only one who heard.”

“He pushed you,” Garrus replied, and then lifted a hand in her direction. “Can you hand me the...thirty three millimeter spanner?” She tried not to flinch back, even though he couldn't see her.

“Uh. Maybe?” she said, crouching down and sorting through the tool case. “Why do you know so much about vehicle maintenance?”

“Standard Turian military training. Not for you guys?”

“No, that's specialized in the Alliance,” she said, still digging through the tools. At least they were the ship's, and she could read the measurements on them. “I wasn't ever too enamored with the grease and oil. Would have cut into time I could be training.”

She finally found something marked '33 MM' and passed it over at last, careful not to touch him. It disappeared under the Mako.  
“I enjoy it. Feels good to take things apart and put them back together. About the replacement panels-”

“On my list,” she assured him.

“I can handle it. I know a guy. Busted him once. You going to go try and find the kid?”

“Have the charge sent to the ship, I'll approve it. And yeah. She still hasn't pinged the account, though, I'm starting to get nervous they ran her off or something,” Shepard admitted worriedly. “Hopefully Clara didn't get in trouble for feeding her.”

“It's not illegal to feed orphans, Shepard,” Garrus said, sliding out from under the Mako. “If you can't locate her, call me. I can send out some inquiries.”

“Thanks, Garrus,” she said with some relief. “I know it's dumb, but-”

“It's not dumb,” he interrupted her, picking up a rag and wiping off his hands.

“Sometimes I have to do things I don't like. A lot of times,” she said quietly, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “I like to do things that make me feel like a good person. Balance those scales a little.”

“You are a good person,” he said, and tilted his head and continued before she could get flustered over it. He finished rising to his feet. “C'mon. This will be fun. I haven't been on the Citadel since I resigned.”

“Oof, yeah. Hopefully they're not too peeved.” She fell into step with him naturally, side by side. Some of the nervousness had faded a little, it wasn't so acute today. Maybe because they weren't face to face, but next to each other.

“I might get hassled a little, but that's all right. I'd feel worse if they didn't,” Garrus chuckled.

It didn't skip her notice that she was leaving with Garrus directly after rejecting Alenko's offer. But this was different. They were just leaving together, not going anywhere.

Completely different.

“So is it a fashion statement, or...?”

Garrus glanced down at her. “What?”

“The grease on your nose,” she said, laughing as he hastily lifted a hand and rubbed it away. “It's fine, it's actually kind of-”

They reached the turbolift, and she froze. Two Turian C-Sec officers were waiting for it, conversing quietly. Before she realized what she was doing, she was stepping back, and then back again, chest tight. The prickling, panicked sensation was washing over her, pushing everything else aside.

She was about to walk into the Citadel. The place was full of Turians. Unprotected, open, exposed. Vulnerable.

She stepped back again, and Garrus turned towards her, puzzled.

The panic on her face must have been pretty obvious, because he instantly lifted both hands. “Okay, Faith. It's okay.”

“I can't. I can't go out there, I can't,” she said, apology stumbling over every word, twisted up with the panic. “Garrus, I can't.”

“You don't have to,” he assured her quickly. “Send me the list of what you need done, and I'll take care of it. Your safety is more important.”

“Garrus, it's your shore leave, I can't-” She swallowed, glancing past him as the Turians got onto the lift and disappeared. “'I can't...”

“Relax. You'd just buy the wrong bottles for me, anyways. This way I get to make sure they're something I actually want,” he said with a smile.

“But Emi-”

“I'll find her, and we'll call you together, okay? She might not trust me, but even if she won't talk to me, maybe she'll talk to you. And if not...I can at least make sure she's safe.”

Letting out a long breath, Shepard reminded herself she wasn't just being paranoid. Just because she'd never known before what a danger it was, now she knew. Also, saying something like 'well, nothing's happened before' was just asking for this to be the time it did.

“Thanks, Garrus,” she said, letting out a long sigh. “I suppose the Doc will be happy if I get more rest.”

“I think we all will be. I'd like an actual challenge next time. Send me what you need done, Shepard,” Garrus said, already turning around and walking away.

Probably so she couldn't panic and argue with him any more.

Smiling faintly to herself, Shepard turned and started walking back to the Normandy, arms wrapping around herself. He hadn't judged her, or questioned her, just understood right away and stepped in to help without making her feel stupid or useless. Garrus Vakarian was a pretty good friend.

She was lucky to have him.


	9. Chapter 9

* * *

“It would mean a lot to me if you would spend some time considering this reckless decision you've made. It feels like the only time I get to see you is at competitions, and now your mother tells me you're quitting? Faith, we put a lot of time and effort and money into this. We all have. And you've worked so hard. I hate to see you give that up.”

There was a pause, a long, tired sigh.

“I love you, chickadee. Call me, okay?”

The recording ended.

Faith stood at the big window, hand fisted on the frame, staring out at the birds flittering around. It was nice to be back on Earth, but it wouldn't last. It never did.

“Do you feel like he's trying?”

“Did that sound like he was trying?” she asked, spite in her voice. It was fine, Doctor Amanda didn't ever mind.

“It sounded like he was upset that you've dropped out of the qualifiers. As is your mother, and Coach Gregorio. What's the difference to you, do you think?”

“They've got the right to be upset. _He_ never showed up until they started putting my name in the news. I hate them. He wasn't my dad for twelve years, and he shows up and thinks he gets to be? He thinks I'm going to call Shannon 'mom'? He keeps calling _that girl_ my sister. He keeps _shoving_ them at me!”

“How did he react to you trying to explain your point of view like we discussed?”

“He just got mad. Kept saying how I was keeping us all from being a 'happy family'. That I was punishing him for not being ready when I was born, whatever the hell that means. He says I should stay here, that going with mom all the time is why I get sick. He keeps telling me how sad I'm making them. Last time he said I made that girl cry because I won't go stay with them.”

“You're not responsible for his feelings, Faith.”

“I know. You always tell me that,” she sighed. “I'm not responsible for people's feelings.”

“You can feel sympathy without letting it be a burden you have to bear, but telling you those things is wrong. He shouldn't do that.”

“Instead of trying to be my dad, he went and made a new family. He wasn't ready for me, but he was ready for her,” Faith said quietly, wishing it didn't hurt. It would all be easier if it didn't hurt. “He keeps offering to pay for stuff, and mom says yes, and then it feels like I keep getting...I dunno. Sold to him.”

“I can see how it would feel that way. Do you think that's a factor in you quitting the qualifiers? You know I agree with you no matter what, so let's try to keep that in mind.”

“I don't always yell at you,” Faith said reproachfully.

Doctor Amanda just raised an eyebrow in silence.

Faith finally sighed, rolling her eyes. “Maybe one of them? Yeah. When it's for me I like it, but...I don't know. I don't want him to be proud of me. I think about it, y'know. When I'm out there competing, I just hate that he's there being proud of me. He doesn't have the _right_.”

She stared out of the window, and Doctor Amanda was quiet. That was part of why Faith liked her. She got so tired of Doctors explaining her, examining her, like her whole life was under a microscope.

Doctor Amanda gave her space to breathe.

“The story. The story of the chicken? With the bread?”

“The Little Red Hen?”

“Yeah. It feels like that. Except it's me. I'm the stupid bread, and everyone's just picking at me, trying to have pieces of me, but they didn't do any of the work. I don't even belong to me.”

“Do you think going to Pinnacle Academy will fix that, Faith? Do you think following in your mother's footsteps will help?”

“I know what you're doing,” Faith said dismissively, a little choked. “I'm not trying to be her. That's not what I'm doing. But...”

“Hmm?”

She stared at the birds flitting, picking at the feeder and then flying away, into the air. She watched them go, leaning her forehead against the cold glass. The sky was so blue here. It was a lie. She knew what the darkness looked like, she'd lived in it her whole life.

Faith was meant for the stars.

“I want to be proud of myself this time.”

* * *

“I refuse to barter, Garrus Vakarian.”

Garrus sighed, trying not to snap. He had not expected to get a damn runaround. It wasn't that he minded running a few errands for Shepard, but he would have liked to get them taken care of efficiently. He didn't want anyone thinking he was holding up the ship.

“Sapit, if I was still C-Sec, you'd know. If I was trying to do a sting, I sure wouldn't come to someone who knows I'm C-Sec. This would be a pretty damn bad disguise, don't you think?”

The Volus stared at him, respirator inhaling loudly. Sapit Tur shook his head rapidly. “I am usually inclined to trust Palaven-clan, but our working relationship has been tainted by your interfering with free trade.”

“It's not free trade to sell stolen goods, Sapit,” Garrus replied, leaning against the counter heavily. He relaxed his voice. “Listen, who else are you going to sell that junk to? I know how long you've been sitting on it. No one on Citadel wants bits and pieces of a gutted Mako.”

He knew it was still there in Sapit's warehouse in the wards. There was no way he'd be able to move something like that. At least he'd obtained it legally, unlike some of his other wares.

“Obviously you do.”

“And that is why I am trying to give you credits for it. I want to give you credits, so you give me what I want. That's all. Check the records. I've resigned from C-Sec.”

“Hmmh.” Sapit Tur took a moment on his omni-tool, and Garrus pretended he was waiting patiently. “Interesting. Where would the goods be delivered?”

“SSV Normandy, Dock 422,” Garrus said, “the Commander will be paying. Fast delivery would be appreciated.”

“That's the Earth-clan Spectre's ship. Commander Shepard.”

He was surprised that Sapit knew that, but this wasn't the time. “It is. She's the kind of person you want to be on the good side of,” Garrus said, flashing a smile to the Volus. “Give me a break, we're all just trying to do our jobs.”

“Well, perhaps we can rebuild trust. Credits are good currency for rebuilding,” Sapit said, turning his attention down to a datapad. “Only currency that matters.”

At least something was going right.

_You're not on my team. Garrus is._

It'd been stuck in his head, the words he overheard when Shepard was dressing down Williams. At first he'd thought she knew he was there, that it was some kind of act put on for his benefit, but she'd been genuinely embarrassed when she realized they were there. Now that he knew how to identify it, her embarrassment was incredibly easy to notice. She turned completely pink. The first time it'd happened he thought she was angry, but apparently there was more than one reason humans flushed.

It was the funniest thing.

He hadn't really thought too much about her letting him use her first name before, except when he had been using it to needle Kaidan, but now he realized what a gesture it was for her. He should have felt badly about eavesdropping twice, but at least it'd been inadvertent. And reassuring.

And confusing.

Friend was a good word for what was going on between them, even if wasn't a hundred percent right. But friendship was for the best. Being attracted to a Human wasn't shocking or anything, they were physically similar to Asari, and the only Turian he'd known that wasn't attracted to Asari was asexual. If it was just a physical attraction he could have shrugged it off.

It wasn't worth thinking about.

Stick with friend, and the rest would go away. Anything would die if you didn't feed it. And this? This was definitely not an attraction he needed to be feeding, for a whole host of reasons. The biggest of which being that it was completely impossible, because he couldn't even touch her, let alone...

“You're a damn idiot-”

“Garrus?”

Pausing, he glanced back over his shoulder, realizing he'd ended up in front of the electronics shop. Tali was poking her head out of the doorway, Liara behind her. He'd almost walked right past them without noticing.

“Oh, hey. Sorry, just running errands, the Commander's-” Shit. Think of a lie. Awkwardly, he continued on, “still not feeling great. The Doctor recommended she just rest.”

“It's understandable, Noveria was extremely difficult,” Liara said, softly worried. “I suppose I shouldn't have assumed she was fine just because she seemed to be.”

“Shepard seems to be good at covering up how she's feeling,” Tali said, and then extended the container she was carrying towards him. He stepped forward to take it out of reflex, but when he glanced down he had no idea what it was.

“Tali?”

“It's for the Mako. I think I found everything I need, it was easy enough. Not a challenging job.”

He fished through the pieces. Speakers, a signal booster, some hookups- “Tali, we are not putting a sound system in the Mako. That's totally unnecessary.”

“Shepard asked for it,” Tali said.

He and Liara shared a look. “She has to do everything to music, doesn't she? Does this mean her driving's going to get _worse_?”

“Oh, I didn't think about that,” Tali said under her breath.

He shifted out of the way as a Hanar drifted past them, trying not to take up the whole corridor.

“I would say it was...enthusiastic driving, rather than bad,” Liara said hesitantly.

“It would be easy enough to retrofit the side panels of the interior to hold the speakers if you remove them for me.”

“Fine,” he said to Tali, handing the crate back with a sigh. “I suppose if we're going to be careening to an early death at Shepard's hands there might as well be something to listen to.”

Tali giggled quietly. “There are worse ways to go, Garrus. We are going to get drinks at Flux later with everyone from engineering. Would you like to come?”

“I'll let you know. I still have a few things left to do for Shepard,” he said, and then smiled at the look the two shared. “What?”

“Nothing,” Tali said innocently. “I think it's cute, Garrus.”

Shit.

They started laughing as he awkwardly cleared his throat, quickly trying to come to his defense. “It's not like that, all right? We're just...friends. We're friends.”

“Hmm,” Liara said, and they shared another significant look.

“Stop doing that,” he ordered them irritably.

“You don't look at anyone else when she's in the room, Garrus,” Tali said innocently.

“She's the Commander.”

“She doesn't talk to anyone else the way she does to you. With all the _flirting_ ,” Tali said, laughter in her voice.

“Shepard's like that with everyone,” he denied, crossing his arms. “She likes to tease people. You two are reaching.”

Liara tipped her head and smiled, but Tali insisted, “it's different.”

“All right, all right. That's enough. I've got things to do, I need to head out to Bachjret Ward. You two have fun.”

“We are, it's like a scavenger hunt!” Tali said excitedly, thankfully dropping the subject. “We're locating a mysterious Human device for Shepard.”

They said their farewells and he finally made his escape, but the damage had been done.

His mind was caught up in replaying all of their interactions, trying to figure out if Tali was telling the truth. Did she really treat him differently? Sure her banter with Joker was more combative, but that was just how they were. And their banter was more- well, flirtacious, but that was just them.

It didn't mean anything to her.

Except he remembered her face when he'd made the joke about getting Turians on their backs. He'd thought he'd just pushed too far and finally managed to embarrass her in a bit of revenge, but...

Every other time she'd given as good as she'd gotten.

The Asari eatery was just opened as he arrived, and as he stepped inside to the small counter restaurant, he was the only one inside.

“You're going to have to wait!” an impatient voice snapped from the narrow kitchen as he approached the counter. “I'm short-staffed and I just walked in the door!”

“I'm just looking for someone. Clara? I was told she works here.”

Coming up to the window, wiping his hands on his apron, the Salarian chef peered at him. “What do you want with her?”

“So I am in the right place. I'm just checking up on someone for a friend who's worried about them, and she told me to talk to Clara. Her name's Shepard, she-”

“Is this about the kid?” the Salarian interrupted him.

“I- yeah. Yeah, it is.”

“Well, they're probably in the same place. I keep telling Clara not to bother, they're not going to let her in to see the kid, but she's stubborn. Talking about trying to get a meeting with the Human ambassador. Huh. Good luck, I told her.”

“What, did C-Sec take her in or something?” he asked, remembering the thievery. They wouldn't jail a kid, but it would definitely cause some complications.

“No, hospital. You know how it goes with duct rats,” the Salarian said. “Kid's just lucky she managed to get found before she bled out.”

Shit.

Shepard was going to be so upset-- but the Salarian was right. It could have been much, much worse. He'd been worried the kid was just one of the ones that disappeared. Not that he'd say that to Shepard.

“Listen, I don't serve dextro, and you're taking up space someone else could use, so do you mind?” The Salarian gestured to the door.

Garrus half-turned, looking at the complete lack of customers. It wasn't worth fighting about, he needed to figure out where the kid was. Shepard was going to be upset. At least he could make sure the kid was still alive before breaking the bad news. “Thanks for your time.”

“Whatever,” the Salarian said, disappearing into the back.

Shaking his head, Garrus stepped back out, heading to transport at double-time. This was both better and worse than he'd feared. Still, if she'd made it to the hospital, that meant the kid would survive. How much of her survived, he didn't know. He'd seen a few of the bodies they'd pulled out of the ducts before.

There would always be kids who slipped through the cracks.

He didn't know what the Human embassy policy on orphans was, but maybe they had a system in place to take care of their kids. If so, the hospital would contact the correct authorities. Maybe even find someone to take the kid in, who knew.

It was grim, but maybe getting hurt would be for the best in the end.

If she was Turian, she'd go right into a group home with kids her age and some adult caretakers as family stand-ins until they started their public service. He assumed the humans had something similar. They were just as attached to their kids as any other race.

Except maybe Krogans, who were more than most.

Understandably, considering the Genophage.

The hospital was humming with activity, but the waiting room wasn't crowded. He made his way through the bright, airy room, heading for the desk on the left side. The Asari behind it glanced up as he approached, smiling brightly.

“How can I help you today?”

“I wanted to check on a patient. A friend of mine heard they'd been injured and asked me to check in,” he said, and the Asari nodded and glanced down.

“Unfortunately, due to privacy regulations, unless your name is specifically on the patient's list, we cannot give you any information about them, sir.”

“Well, that's kind of difficult, because they don't know me. Like I said, it's for a friend. Maybe...their name is on the list? I suppose you still couldn't speak to me then, huh?”

“I can at least check for you, sir. What was the patient's name?”

“Emi, she said. Just. That's the only name she gave me. Little human girl, about nine or ten.”

The Asari took a moment at her console, and then finally shook her head. “I'm sorry, sir. There's only one name on the list, and I'm fairly sure it's not yours.”

“Is it Shepard?” he asked, and then sighed when her eyes averted. “Right, privacy. Shepard is my friend-”

“Did you say Shepard?” a voice from behind him asked. Turning, he stared at the human woman approaching him, her hands twisted together lightly. “Are you a friend of Commander Shepard's?”

“Clara?” he guessed, and she nodded rapidly.

“They won't let me see her, I'm sorry. I tried.”

He took a step away from the counter, nodding his head down to her. “I understand. I'm Garrus. Shepard asked me to come check in on her, she was worried when the kid stopped going to eat.”

“I was too. Emi would...Emi would say a few things about her friends. About how some of them had died, and I thought the worst but...she's here, at least, she's alive. But the nurses won't ask her if she wants to see me, and I don't know if she's all right, and-”

He gently interrupted her worried babbling. “Hey. You've done more than most people would.”

“I didn't realize I was talking to the first human Spectre before. She was so nice. So nice to do that for Emi. She's rough around the edges, but she's really a nice girl, she's just had such a hard life. I just didn't want her to think no one cared. I don't want her to think I didn't care.”

He reached out as she teared up, clasping her shoulder lightly. “It's okay, Clara.”

From behind them, the Asari gently cleared her throat. They both glanced towards her. “If your friend. Commander Shepard. If she is able to come, I think you should ask her. That would be a good idea.”

“Does that mean she's allowed? Did Emi give them her name?” Clara asked hopefully.

“I'm not at liberty to say, I'm sorry,” the Asari replied with a smile.

“Thank you,” Garrus told her sincerely, and then stepped aside, tilting his head to Clara. She trailed after him, hands still twisted together. “Come on, we'll call Shepard right now. All right?”

This was complicated.

Finding a seat, he settled down, bringing up the comm functionality. Clara settled next to him, almost nervously. When he glanced sidelong, she was staring at him.

“Something on my face?”

“Sorry. I don't spend a lot of time with Turians,” she said, flushing and glancing down.

“Yo, Garrus. Tell me you've got good news,” Shepard said as the call picked up, sounding out of breath.

“You're supposed to be resting, not working out,” he replied as lightly as he could, and she laughed.

“The quiet is nice. So, what's up?”

“I ah, I'm here with Clara. So, I don't want you to panic...”

“Said no one ever before good news.”

“Emi's in the hospital,” he said succinctly, rather than drawing it out. Shepard inhaled swiftly, and he continued before she could work herself up. “Which _means_ she's okay. The problem is, I can't get in to see her, and Clara can't either. We were very circumspectly told that your name is probably the only one she gave them.”

“So I'm the only one who can get in and see her,” Shepard finished, voice quiet and sober now. “Shit, Garrus.”

“She's probably going to be okay. I'm sure there's a system in place that'll take care of her, if it makes you feel better, you can contact the Ambassador's office and make some noise, they'll take care of it for you,” Garrus said, ignoring Clara's stare.

“I-”

“She'll just run away,” Clara said, interrupting him. “I'm sorry, Commander, but it's true. I offered to take her in to talk to someone, but she said if I tried she'd run away. She- she hasn't had good experiences.”

“Shepard-”

“No, Garrus, it's fine. I'll be there soon, you just hold tight. Shepard out.”

The call ended before he could protest again, and he stared in silence at his omni-tool. She'd sounded completely calm and collected, but that was Shepard. Tali was right, she was good at hiding her feelings.

Hopefully she'd be all right.

Her panic the first time she'd tried to leave the ship had worried him. It was completely understandable, but it had been such an extreme reaction he'd thought she was about to have a breakdown.

He wasn't sure how she was going to make it all the way to the hospital.

“Okay, okay, this is no big deal. You've done this a million times before,” Shepard told herself, staring down the exit to the ship. “You've walked past a million Turians. This is no different. People aren't just gonna lick you or something, don't be weird about this. This is fine. Everything's fine.”

Turning on a heel, heart pounding in her chest, she walked away for the third time.

Shit, shit, shit.

“Stop it. Stop it. You've got an epipen. You're going to a hospital. If there's anywhere you should be, it's a hospital, right? Shit.”

She paced in circles, trying to psych herself up. Slapping both cheeks, she inhaled sharply. “Stop it. You can do this. That little girl needs you, you big dumbass.”

She made it to the airlock again before panicking and pacing back away again.

No, no, this wasn't working.

Shepard would never make it to the hospital if she was having panic attacks. Maybe she should call the Ambassador's office, do something- no. No, she wasn't going to make a little girl suffer because she was too much of a coward to make the trip.

But what could she do? What could she-

Oh.

Wait.

There _was_ something she could do.

Her plan worked pretty flawlessly as she made it through C-Sec and out into the Presidium, despite all the weird looks. Let them stare. So what? Volus got away with it. Quarians got away with it. Why couldn't Shepard?

Okay, granted, a human in full armor and a helmet was a little different than a Quarian in a suit, but who cared?

The panic was still happening, she found herself instinctively avoiding groups and taking less efficient ways to get where she was going. Renting an aircar instead of taking transport, the whole nine yards. Stupid and paranoid, but paranoia was better than death or failing in her mission.

Just another mission.

When she arrived at the hospital she spotted Garrus first, lifting a hand to him across the way. He returned the gesture, smiling, and when she approached she could hear him chuckling. She lifted both hands in a shrug, and he returned the gesture.

“Adapt, overcome,” she quipped, and then glanced around. “Where's Clara?”

“She had to go to work. I convinced her that it was for the best, but I told her you would contact her later.”

“Thanks,” Shepard sighed, shoulders slumping. “Shit.”

“You all right?”

“Not really,” she said cheerfully, shaking her head. “I'd better see if they'll let me in, or if I have to start calling people to yell at. Thanks. I'll see you later?”

“I don't mind waiting to walk you back so you're not alone.”

She really wanted to ask him to, but that wasn't fair. He'd already done so much for her. It wasn't appropriate to lean on him too much, friends or no.

“It's okay. I've already asked for too much from you today,” she assured him with a smile that he probably couldn't see. “Go, relax. Have some fun. I'm gonna see what I can do about this situation.”

He hesitated for a moment, staring at her, but finally he nodded. “I was invited to a super-exclusive engineering hang out,” he said, chuckling. “Don't be jealous.”

“Absolutely green with envy,” she said. “Thanks for this, Garrus.”

“Hey, what are friends for?”

She gently cuffed his shoulder as he stood, and he returned the gesture. It felt safe in armor, and she needed the comfort right now. Turning, Shepard watched him go, waiting until he'd disappeared to take a deep breath and face the desk.

Alone.

The Asari working behind it glanced up as she approached, looking a bit bemused. “Good afternoon...”

“Commander Shepard,” she said briskly, holding out her omni-tool for identification.

There was a pause as the scanner inset into the counter read her. The Asari nodded, smiling softly as she turned to her console. “I'm glad you're here to see her, Commander Shepard. You're cleared. Please go through the doors, she's in room...three eighteen.”

“Is there a nurse's station or something where I can get information on her status?”

“A nurse will meet you in the room as soon as they're available.”

“Thanks.”

She was less familiar with this part of the hospital, but it was well laid-out and the signs were clear. The corridors weren't crowded, but there were a few people she passed. What was weird on the Presidium was downright bizarre here, and the stares she got were longer, and more disbelieving.

Despite telling herself she didn't care, Shepard felt pretty damn self-conscious.

Please don't let the nurse be Turian.

It was all worth it, though, when she stepped into the small room and reached up for her helmet. The small girl lying listlessly in the bed glanced towards her, and her face lit up as Shepard approached, tucking the helmet under her arm. It was hard not to give a worried once-over, she could see fresh scars poking out of the thin hospital gown at her left shoulder. She did her best to keep a confident smile, though.

“Looks like you went and got yourself into a little trouble, huh?”

“You came back,” Emi replied quietly, staring up into her face. The tiny little spark of hope in the words told a story that she couldn't think about, not right now. She couldn't break down. Shit, though, it twisted her poor heart.

How many people hadn't come back for her?

“I always come back, Emi,” Shepard replied, approaching the bedside. When Emi's face fell again, she crouched down. “Hey. You're okay, huh?”

“I broke my promise,” Emi said, and pulled her arm out from under the blanket.

Oh, that was...

_Jesus._

Trying not to look horrified or as heartbroken as she felt, Shepard reached out gently for the arm. Emi flinched back, pulling it back again. The skin was covered in new scars and the lines of skin grafts that probably would fade away in time, but the fact that she was missing everything from the elbow down was a bigger issue.

“Oh, it's okay. I'm a soldier, Emi,” she said confidently. “I've seen a lot worse. They'll clone you up a new one, no trouble. Pop it right on there soon as it's ready.”

“I don't wanna be in the hospital any more.”

Remembering Clara's words about the possibility of Emi running away, Shepard took a minute, watching as the missing hand was hidden back under the blanket again. “I get that. It's scary-”

“I'm not scared,” Emi retorted, head jerking up, eyes flaring with anger.

“Okay, good. Then you'll stay here until they help you,” Shepard replied, shrugging her shoulders as she hid her smile. “And then you'll get a new pinkie, and you can make me a new promise.”

“Promise?”

“You can't go in the ducts any more,” Shepard said soberly. “Next time you might not be so lucky.”

“I don't got anywhere else to go. Can I go on your ship with you? I can help.”

“I- Emi, I'm sorry. I can't do that. We're fighting some really nasty stuff out there, it's not a safe place for you,” Shepard said, ignoring the voice in her head that was ordering her to pick up Emi and run off with her. No. She might have been raised on ships, but the Normandy was _not_ that kind of ship.

“I can fight.”

“I bet you can. One day you're gonna fight better than anyone. When you're _older._ ”

“If you don't let me go on your ship I'm gonna run away,” Emi replied threateningly, narrowing her eyes at Shepard.

“Wow. Big words, kiddo, big words.” Shepard had to fight back a smile. She didn't want Emi to think she was making fun of her. “I can't let you on the ship, but I need you to stay here until they fix you up. Then you need to-” There she stalled.

“I'm not going back,” Emi replied, voice cracking.

“I'm...Emi, can you give me a couple minutes? I need to call someone who might know how to help, okay? I'm just going to be in the hall, I just need to make a call.”

Emi stared her down, swallowing heavily. “Do- do you promise to come back?”

“Yeah, kiddo. I'll be _right_ back,” Shepard replied firmly.

The uninjured hand lifted towards her expectantly, pinkie finger extended.

Stepping in, Shepard took it in hers, twisting them tightly together.

“I promise.”


	10. Chapter 10

The plan was pretty solid, Shepard had thought, but she'd come up against an impenetrable wall.

A very stubborn ten year old.

“I don't wanna go to Earth,” Emi said, poking at something that definitely wasn't chocolate pudding.

“That was just an option,” Shepard said, trying her best to be patient. There were chairs, but she'd ended up sitting on the floor next to the bed, leaning against a small table. “Captain Anderson said that we can find someone here on Citadel to foster you, he got me in touch with a really nice lady who's gonna work with you. You don't gotta go into the home or anything. But if you wanted to go to Earth...”

“I don't wanna go to Earth, and I don't wanna go live with some dumb person I don't know. I wanna go on the Normandy with _you_.”

Shepard stifled a sigh. “Okay, well, you can't. You have to stay here, and go to school.” The betrayed look Emi gave her had Shepard lifting both hands defensively. “I know, I said I wouldn't make you before, but the situation's changed, and-”

Emi's eyes narrowed. “You're a liar.”

“You can't ever come on the Normandy if you don't go to school,” Shepard said, feeling thoroughly outmaneuvered, but still clinging to the task at hand. “There's education requirements. So if you wanna one day...”

“I _do_.”

“Then you have to do schooling, and you have to find a safe place to live. You might even get adopted. That's pretty cool, right? A family of your own?”

“No. You can adopt me, though,” Emi said magnanimously.

“I- uh,” Shepard sputtered, lifting both hands again. “Kid, I'm a soldier, not a mom.”

“If you adopt me I'll go live with whatever people I don't know, I don't care. I'll do school,” Emi said, starting to cross her arms and then stopping. Her face fell as she looked back down at her arm.

“Hey. Why are you so hung up on this, huh? There's plenty of great people out there,” Shepard said, trying a cajoling voice.

Emi shrugged, pulling up the blanket again. “You kept your promise. And I saw you on the vids. They said you're a hero. Like a real hero. Like Wonder Woman.”

“You like comics?” Shepard asked weakly, and smiled faintly when Emi nodded. “Well, Wonder Woman's way cooler than me. I just don't think you really get what you're asking, Emi. I'm not mom material. I'm always gonna be away. Don't you want a family where they can be there for you?”

Emi frowned, expression going right back to mulish. Her voice was flat, uncompromising. “No. Will you adopt me? Please, I can take care of myself, I don't need nothing, I promise. I promise I'll be good.”

“I _can't_ , Emi!”

“I'll go live with your sister,” Emi said.

Shepard froze, smile stiffening and then fading away. “I don't have a sister, kiddo.”

“I saw her on the vids. Your sister and your mom and dad. They said you were a hero.”

Instinctive revulsion rose, but Shepard did her best to keep it out of her voice and off her face. Those fucking _parasites_. Of course they'd crop up now. “They're not- that's not an option, Emi. It's just me and my mom, those people aren't really my family. They just call themselves that.”

“I'll go live with your mom.”

“She's-” Shepard stopped herself before she fell into arguing with a little kid again. “It's not possible. I'm sorry, Emi.”

“You don't want me,” Emi said, matter-of-factly.

“It's not that, kiddo,” Shepard sighed tiredly.

“It's okay, nobody really wants me. You don't have to lie,” Emi said. Again, not sad, just tired and resigned. It was actually worse than if she was crying. It was the voice of a kid who was used to being discarded.

God, this sucked.

Shepard heaved a long sigh, pressing her fingers to her temples, massaging them in slow circles. “Emi...it's not a lie. I'm just really not capable of being a good mom.”

“Well, I'm not a good kid,” Emi said quietly.

“Hey,” Shepard said, glancing up at her. Emi was staring at the bed blankly, shoulders slumped. “Hey,” she repeated, until the eyes reluctantly dragged up to her. “Whoever told you that is a fucking asshole. But adopting a kid takes _time_ , Emi, and they'd probably reject me for not being able to be around for you.”

“But you're a hero,” Emi insisted.

“It's just a word, kiddo,” she said quietly. When the tears started despite Emi's stubbornly blank expression, Shepard reached out, rising to sit on the edge of the bed. “Hey, hey, come on. It's okay, Emi. We're gonna find you a good place to live.”

They stared at each other in silence, and Emi's mask finally broke, just a little crack through to let out some of the hurt. “You won't _try_?”

God damn it.

“I-” Shepard stalled, letting out a long, slow sigh. “Listen, I'm not gonna talk down to you, Emi. I'm a shit. I kill people. I get people killed. Hero's just a word people slap on top of someone to make them feel better about that. Even if I adopted you, you wouldn't be able to live with me. I wouldn't be able to take you to do cool stuff. I might not even remember your birthdays, or give you presents. I wouldn't be able to give you another mom or a dad, or brothers and sisters because my life doesn't work like that. And you'll always be wondering if I've gotten hurt, or gotten myself killed, and that's no way for a kid to live. Knowing all that, you still want to ask me that?”

Emi didn't even hesitate, face set in stubborn lines despite watery eyes. “Yeah.”

Yeah, she was fucked.

Shepard sighed heavily, lifting her omni-tool. “I cannot believe I'm doing this.” She selected the call and leaned back against the bed, eyeing the hospital tray of food that was too close for comfort. Idly she counted how many things on it she was allergic to.

“Faith? Did something else happen?” Captain Anderson asked.

“No, sorry sir. If I wanted to put in an adoption application, where would I reach out to? Someone in social services again, I assume. I realize I'm not even going to get past the questionnaire, but...”

There was a long, disbelieving pause on the other end of the line. Shepard didn't blame him. Lifting a hand, she rubbed her forehead in slow circles.

“Faith, is this a joke?”

“No, sir,” she sighed. “It is not a joke. This little emotional terrorist has me backed into a corner.” Emi beamed. “And you know, hell, at least my survivor benefits would go to someone if I die.”

“I don't know that a single soldier on active duty is the kind of parent they're looking for, Shepard. Spectre status or no.”

“I'm aware, sir, but I promised I would _try_. It's what she wants. Enough people have broken promises to her, I'm not willing to join that group.”

“I'll...have someone find the proper person and give them your contact information,” Anderson said, still sounding unsettled.

“Thanks, sir.”

“Come by and see me before you leave. Non-negotiable.”

“Yes, sir,” Shepard said, ending the call. Glancing sidelong at the still-smiling Emi, she shook her head. “They're just gonna reject me.”

Emi shrugged. “But you'll try.”

“I'll try. All right, I'm gonna go buy you an omni-tool and some jammies, okay? If you're gonna be stuck here till you get an arm grown, you might as well be comfy. What colors do you like?”

“Black and purple,” Emi said, but cautiously. “Can you-” She stalled.

“You're allowed to ask for stuff,” Shepard sighed. “You already bullied me into doing the adoption application. Jesus kid, just ask for something I _can_ do, please. For the love of god.”

Emi smiled. “Can you get MegaMega Bun-Bun on it?”

“A game?” Shepard asked, and smiled at the nod. “Sure. I'm more of a war game fan. What's that one? Puzzles or something?”

“No you hatch an egg and it makes a little animal you raise,” Emi explained, poking at her food with a bit more enthusiasm now. “And you pet it and play with it and buy it hats.”

“Oh, that sounds cute.”

“Yeah and then you fight other people's animals and then eat their dead bodies to get stronger so you can fight in the MegaMega Death Tournament.”

Shepard blinked. “Okay then.”

“The MegaMega Death Champion gets to put their name on the Bun-Bun Skull Throne until the next championship. My friend Fateri was the Champion of Zakera Ward's Skull Throne. He got a special hat for his Bun-Buns.” The envy in her voice was audible.

“Not gonna lie, that sounds kind of fun,” Shepard admitted, pushing up from the bed. “I'll be back in a bit.”

Emi didn't say anything, which Shepard didn't notice until she paused in the doorway and glanced back over her shoulder. The look on Emi's face was pensive and withdrawn, but at least not afraid this time. Shepard smiled, and it was uncertainly returned.

“I will come back.”

“I know,” Emi said quietly. “Cause you're a hero.”

Trying not to shake her head, Shepard managed a warm smile and turned around. It dropped the instant she turned her back, and she paced away, pulling her helmet back on. This felt wrong. It felt like getting the kid's hopes up, but what other option did she have?

At least doing it this way meant that when she got rejected, Emi might go to a foster home without any more threats. Maybe she could let her call her Auntie Faith or something. Send her messages and pictures of places and stuff.

Kids liked that sort of thing.

She deserved to know someone was trying.

There were definitely a lot of hung-over people this morning.

Shepard slunk into Alenko's seat on the bridge, slinging her legs over the side of the chair as Joker finished talking to Citadel. He glanced sidelong at her, and she smirked. Those were definitely some dark circles under his eyes.

“You look way too damn perky,” he accused.

“I got a full night's sleep,” she retorted cheerfully. “Don't hate on me because you didn't.”

“I came looking for you in the afternoon but you were out.” It was an accusation. “Had a hot date, Shepard?”

“I was busy being threatened with a psych eval by Anderson,” she said fondly, smiling over the memory. Eventually she'd been able to convince him she wasn't gone completely off the rails. Maybe just a little. “Also went shopping, rented an apartment, started adopting a child, and still got a good night's sleep.”

“Oh ha ha,” Joker said sarcastically. “You hate shopping. Fine, don't tell me. You know, this is why we got divorced.”

“We got divorced because I found you in bed with my roommate.”

“So? It was an open relationship.”

“She'd been dead for a week, Joker!”

“...Ew.”

They both craned their heads around at the quiet word. Shepard gave Williams a once-over. She didn't look great, either, but at least she was there, in uniform and ready to go.

“You on my team, Williams?” she asked simply, ignoring the eyeballing Joker was giving her. “I don't expect perfection. I expect you to try.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Williams said, nodding her head.

“Awesome. Glad to have you onboard. Get a nice strong cup of coffee in you.”

“I think that might actually make it worse,” Ashley confessed, uneasily.

“I'm sure the doc has some antacids or something.”

“Doc's actually not back yet, Commander. I came to let you know.”

Shepard frowned, bringing up her omni-tool and switching to her messages. She ignored all the ones that had poured in today from people who hadn't spoken to her in ages. Nothing worse than the feeling that people only gave a shit about you one day of the year. She scrolled down the list. “Of all the people to go on a bender...oh, message from her. She had to pick something up, she's on her way back. Hopefully won't delay us. Deliveries on board?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Great. Thanks for the update, Ashley,” Shepard said, keeping her voice easy and friendly. Use the name, make the connection. “Oop, speaking of messages...” She connected the call, leaning back in her seat. She relaxed as she heard Williams leave. “Hey, Emi. We're still scheduled to be out of here in twenty. What did the doctor say?”

“She said Clara can bring me down to see the ship go if I come right back,” Emi's voice said quietly from the omni-tool, sounding a little strained. “Do I have to talk to the social services lady today? I don't wanna.”

“Yeah, but you promised. I know it's scary, but I talked to her yesterday, and she's really nice. They just want to help. We've both got our missions.” Shepard could feel Joker staring at her, mouth half-open. She hid a smile. “You've got this. I'll buy you the Blasto hat for your Bun-Bun later. Everyone deserves something nice to look forward to when they're going to face something big.”

“Can I have the Quarian helmet instead? Salesh already got Blasto and he'll say I'm copying him.”

“Sounds good,” Shepard confirmed. “Message me on Bun-Net so I don't forget, and tell me what color. I should go.”

“Okay. Emi out.”

Shepard grinned and dropped her wrist, rolling her head to the side to meet Joker's stare. “What?”

“Were you telling me the _truth_?”

“If I didn't put in an adoption app she was going to run off. It's a formality, they're going to reject me,” Shepard dismissed, slinging herself out of Kaidan's chair. “She's a good little kid who's had a tough life. I'm just glad that they're going to find her a good place to live. Plus I was like fifty percent sure she would figure out a way to stow away and I do not have time for that level of movie nonsense.”

“What the hell is your life, Shepard?” Joker asked, shaking his head. “Rented an apartment?”

“I needed an address that isn't the ship. It's completely empty, which is amusing, but that's fine.” She lifted one shoulder in a shrug, clapping the back of his chair lightly. “The Ambassador's office is good for something, they handled it _all_. Definitely owe some people fruit baskets or something. Not Udina, mind you. I avoided him the whole time.”

“I think I'm on Captain Anderson's side here. You sure you don't need a psych eval? Faith 'it's better not to form connections' Shepard?”

She kept her voice easy. “I just wanna do some good, Joker. Too many bodies.”

Joker's expression sobered as he stared up at her. “Sorry, Shep.”

“It's okay. Yeah, this got a little out of control, but hell, if I was an orphan living alone on the Citadel I'd probably be trying to cling to someone who seemed bigger than reality, you know? She said I was like Wonder Woman,” she admitted, ducking her head as she grinned at that.

“Great, now you're gonna be impossible to live with. Doc's on board.”

“Awesome.” Stepping forward, she found the ship comm panel and set it up. “Good morning. We will be departing Citadel station in fifteen minutes and heading to the Mass Relay for our trip to Tuntau. Please find your duty stations and prepare for departure.” Removing her finger from the comm button, she finished just for Joker, “barf buckets will be provided upon request.”

“Don't even mention barf right now, please,” Joker begged her tiredly.

“Wimp. All right, let's hit the road.” She gave his chair one less cuff and about-faced to head back to the CIC. Pressley was arriving as she did, looking as put together as Shepard. “Pressley. Avoided your vices last night?”

“Sadly no, Commander,” Pressly said with a chuckle. “I met up with some old friends who traded in ship for station-side and lost too much money at the casino.”

“Ah, that's a damn shame,” Shepard said sympathetically as Pressley set to work, watching the map zip by systems. “I can't gamble. Way too superstitious. I'd need a quart of holy water and a whole stable full of horseshoes. I once stayed in a bunk that had the beds with the feet facing the door and I slept upside-down the whole time.”

“Anyone who serves long enough ends up with some funny habits. I throw away all my socks before starting a new station,” Pressley said.

“Hey, any excuse for new socks,” Shepard said cheerfully.

They continued chatting amiably as people staggered in, some worse than others. Still, even hung over everyone was doing their best to stay spit and polished, and what more could she ask for than that? It wouldn't surprise her if anyone not on duty rotation once they got going ended up back to bed, though.

Shepard might often be sick, but as long as she took care of herself she tended to bounce back really well.

She felt fine.

For once.

Once they hit the relay and were on track, she left the bridge to Pressley and started heading down to the crew deck. On the way there, her radio was beeped, and she answered it without a thought. “Commander Shepard.”

“Shepard. I didn't want to bother you yesterday, but I thought I'd ask how things went with the kid. Feeling a little invested now,” Garrus responded. She couldn't tell from his voice if he was hung over. Maybe that was a Turian thing.

Maybe they didn't get hung over.

“It's a long story, but she's gonna be okay. You eaten? I haven't yet, I had too many loose ends to tie up before we left.”

“I did, but I'll come up once I finish removing these panels for Tali. Shepard, I can't say this enough. No more lava.”

He hung up on her while she was laughing.

“Are you all right?”

Pulling back out of the Mako, both hands braced above the door, Garrus glanced at Tali. He gave a faint laugh, shaking his head as he pushed up straight. “I didn't hear you come up, sorry. Just confused. Williams said good morning to me.”

“Really?” Tali asked, sounding faintly shocked. He could hear how tired she was, which wasn't surprising considering he'd practically had to carry her back with Liara.

“Surprised as you.” He didn't bother to hide his smile.

“Well, maybe things are better now, that would be nice. I'll take care of this in a while,” Tali said, voice slowing. “I need to hydrate first.”

“You were pretty drunk,” Garrus said, chuckling at her faint groan. “You need to pace yourself better.”

“You have no right to say that. How are you not miserable? You were definitely drunk,” Tali accused him, taking the second panel from him and stacking it next to the first.

“The trick is to _stop_ once you're drunk, Tali. It's called discipline.”

“Turians ruin everything,” she said, and then sighed, long and heavy. “I'm done talking to you, Garrus. I'm going to go find someone suffering as much as I am.”

“Misery loves company.”

He laughed when she gave the best approximation of Shepard's favourite hand-gesture at him, stalking off to engineering with a slump. It really was an efficient method of communication. He should to get the repairs done, but there was enough time to head up and get the debrief on the situation with the kid.

He'd actually expected Shepard to at least message him yesterday, but she hadn't. Garrus felt a little stupid for the assumption. Of course she had no reason to tell him, it wasn't exactly his business. Still.

Speaking of feeling stupid...

When he headed around the corner to the mess, he paused and took stock before braving it. He still didn't feel up to facing Liara. Not that he thought she would tease him, but he was still embarrassed about last night. He couldn't imagine how much worse it would have been if he'd been _more_ drunk.

Thankfully the only ones in the mess were the doctor and Shepard...who appeared to be crying.

When she jolted up out of her chair and threw her arms around the doctor, who chuckled softly and returned it, he uncertainly approached. Doctor Chakwas clasped her hands on Shepard's shoulders and pulled her back, still smiling. “As if I would forget.”

“I just can't believe you _found_ something,” Shepard said, laughter in the words.

She was crying _and_ laughing. Garrus wasn't quite sure what to make of that.

“I watched them make everything. No cross-contaminants, everything on your list of safe foods. Who better than me to know?”

“You're amazing, thank you,” Shepard said, sniffing heavily.

“I promise I won't tell anyone. Now, I likely have analgesics to hand out,” Doctor Chakwas said with a chuckle. “Enjoy your sushi.” She stepped around Shepard, offering him a nod in passing. “Good morning, Garrus.”

“Good morning, Doctor,” he replied, smiling as Shepard spun around and stared at him, eyes wide. He lifted his hands. “I didn't see anything,” he said.

Shepard laughed in embarrassment, wiping her cheeks. “Thanks. Can't have people thinking I'm actually a person, it ruins the chain of command. Oh man, but what a nice surprise.”

“What is it?” he asked, glancing from her to the pair of boxes set out on the table.

Shepard pulled out a chair and settled, reaching for the longer of the pair. “Food I can actually eat,” she said with a smile, lifting the lid. “Honestly, just eating anything that isn't ration bars makes me nervous, but it's worth it if I can. It's just not usually worth the risk. I trust the doc, though.”

He surveyed the contents as she settled down, which seemed to be pieces of brightly-colored flesh of some sort, arranged artistically. His attention lifted from Shepard to the table itself, uncertainly. There was no one else sitting.

She glanced at him obliquely, with a smile. “Are you gonna keep hovering?”

“Trying to figure out the least awkward place to sit,” he admitted.

“Next to me,” she said quietly. “It feels safer than across.”

“So what is it?” he asked as he pulled out the chair.

“Sushi. There's a lot of different kinds, but this is just slices of raw and lightly seared fish on top of seasoned rice. I generally can't get it because they use a lot of ingredients I can't eat, especially shellfish, which I'm deathly allergic to,” Shepard said cheerfully.

“You're not allergic to fish, but you are if they have a shell,” he said, trying to wrap his head around that.

“We call molluscs shellfish, even though they're very different,” Shepard laughed, and then let out a long sigh, smile fading. Glancing sidelong at him, she met his eyes. There was something there that he couldn't quite identify, a little sad. “Everything's always more complicated than it should be,” she said, more soberly.

Breaking her gaze, he turned his attention away, nodding slowly. The quiet undertone to the statement he had to acknowledge. “That's the truth.”

“So ah- Emi,” Shepard started.

“Eat your sushi, Shepard. Don't let it get cold. Warm?” he said, and she laughed, tipping him a nod. “I'm actually surprised, I thought humans liked their food overcooked.”

She picked up one of the pieces in her thumb and forefinger, a brilliantly red slice of fish contrasting with what he assumed was the rice. The blissful expression on her face was so intense that it actually sparked some embarrassment. He averted his eyes again.

She let out a long, contented sigh through her nose. “Mmh. Well, yes, we're generally against our food still _wriggling_ , Garrus.”

“Your loss.”

“I suppose that's what happens when you base your entire culture around the military. Turian efficiency, cooking wastes time,” Shepard joked, giving him a light nudge.

It was a gesture she hadn't made to him before, but he'd seen her do to Wrex, the slight lean-in and bump of her elbow. He couldn't hide the slight lean away that came with a sudden nervous uneasiness, confusingly twisted up with a flustered pleasure at the contact. She stiffened.

“Sorry,” she said quietly. “It's easy to forget.”

“It's hard for me to forget,” he said, trying to banish the memory of her white face, chest unmoving as she stopped breathing.

“It's easy and that's hard,” she laughed, without much humor. Clearing her throat, she glanced down, picking up another piece of sushi. “Emi's gonna be okay. She lost an arm, but they're already cloning her a new one.”

“Poor kid,” he said sympathetically.

“She's really tough. I may have been an ass and cut through some red tape to make sure she doesn't end up in the home- she'd just run away. I umh- she's gonna be okay, though. I spent what time I could with her, after seeing Anderson and things. Did you ah- did you have a good time?”

Something in the awkwardness in her voice was affecting him, or it was just bringing out the awkwardness he'd been trying to cover up. Staring straight ahead, sitting close enough to her to feel the shift of her arm as she leaned forward; it was as if the teasing from Tali and Liara had made him acutely aware of how he acted around her. Shepard was right.

It was easy, and that was hard.

“Yeah, it was a good time,” he said. “I was surprised Alexei actually made it back to the ship on time, I thought he might end up lost in an alley somewhere.”

Shepard laughed, a quick stutter of sound, “it's not leave unless someone goes missing. I wish I could have given everyone longer. This is a stressful mission.”

“You're doing-”

He was interrupted by an insistent notification from her omni-tool. Shepard's lips twisted in annoyance, and she shook her head. “We're back in range of the comm buoys,” she said irritably, lifting her omni-tool. “God, I hate today,” she muttered.

“Everything okay?”

“It's-” She paused, glancing sidelong at him for so long he was starting to get confused. Finally she spoke, with a long sigh. “It's my least favorite day of an Earth year. My birthday. Don't-” she quickly said, before he could say anything. “I don't want anyone to know. I hate the whole idea that this is the one day a year people pretend to give a shit about me. It feels fake. There's nothing I hate more than people faking caring about me.” The bitterness in her voice was odd, especially for Shepard.

“I won't say a word,” he promised in hopes of banishing it, and returned her relieved smile. “I ah- thanks for trusting me.”

“Yeah,” she said, lifting a shoulder in a shrug, banishing the hologram with a flick of her fingers and picking up another piece of sushi. “Well, you haven't broken my trust yet, and considering...that's a lot of trust. I haven't really been upfront with you about just how much that means to me. It's sometimes hard for me to be honest about how I'm feeling. But I need you to know...just how much I appreciate it. Thank you. It's hard for me to be vulnerable.”

Her voice cracked.

The awkwardness was back, worse than before. It was heavy, bringing a sudden weight to his chest, to the moment stretching between them. His mind completely blank, Garrus struggled to try and find the right words. Damn it. Why the hell was he suddenly such a mess around her?

“Uh,” he said, intelligently. “No problem, Shepard.”

The curious sidelong look she gave him he avoided. “You okay?”

“Just too tired to sound smart,” he said, and managed to fake a smile when she laughed at that.

Shepard relaxed, turning back to her food, shaking her head. “Ah, my smug moral superiority over getting an actual night's sleep. Shit, Garrus, you know what a girl really wants for her birthday.”

It was an invitation to banter, but for some reason he just couldn't bring himself to rise to the occasion. “No problem,” he repeated, mentally cursing himself as he pushed down on the table. “I should go get the Mako patched up. Enjoy your sushi, Shepard.”

“I will,” she said, sounding puzzled. He wanted to reassure her, but considering he didn't even know _why_ he was acting so oddly, he couldn't possibly. “Did, ah-” He paused, but she just shook her head rapidly. “Never mind.”

The hint of resignation in her voice bothered him, but it was too late.

Garrus nodded and left, feeling her eyes follow him until he turned the corner.


	11. Chapter 11

In the midst of counting bodies, Shepard's omni-tool went off with a chirpy little alarm.

“Hang on, I gotta feed my Bun-Bun,” Shepard said absently, plopping her ass down on a crate. “Tali, can you identify the owners of any of this cargo?”

“I can take scans, Shepard,” Tali agreed, leaning over curiously. “You play MegaMega?”

“I just started. A kid I know is into it,” Shepard said, ignoring Wrex's snort. “My Bun-Bun's pretty sad, I've only got bots to battle since we're on the ship. She's gonna kick my ass.”

“I could bring mine out of retirement,” Tali said absently, stepping away to start surveying crates.

“Shepard, these are spoils of battle,” Wrex said, glancing across the body-strewn space.

“I'm still running an Alliance ship,” she said, finishing feeding her Bun-Bun and closing the game after checking her messages. “These are stolen goods, Wrex. I'm not going to haul them around, but I can at least identify and send in the information so if they're important the actual owners can send out someone to gather them up.”

Wrex grunted. “Waste of time.”

“Ah, but not a waste of _our_ time, Wrex, waste of someone else's time,” Shepard said, pushing off of the crate. She wandered over and clapped his arm. “We got what we came for. That's what matters. A few scans to itemize what's in here, and then we head back to the ship. Quick and easy.”

Getting to work, she joined Tali for the scanning. Most of the crates were from the same company at least. She was just grateful these hadn't been slaver pirates. That would have made things a lot less comfortable.

Scanning serial numbers where they could, and company names when they couldn't, they worked their way through swiftly.

“At least strip the bodies,” Wrex said as they made their way towards the front of the warehouse. “No need to be wasteful, Shepard.”

“Such a funny guy, Wrex,” she retorted, and then gave a long sigh. No point getting weird about stealing from the dead and unlawful. “Sure. You see anything worth taking off the pirates, take it.”

“Oh good, I saw a shotgun I wanted to look at,” Tali said happily.

Watching them scatter, Shepard shook her head and made her way towards the catwalk. She couldn't blame them. Generally she wasn't against scavenging, but all the company-branded crates held in this place felt like a bridge too far. Tapping her radio as she moved to check the sniper Tali took out, she cleared her throat.

“Yes, Commander?”

“Pressley, we've got a warehouse full of stolen Ariake goods. Getting a rough manifest put together, have communications shoot it off to- I don't know. I assume somewhere deep in the bureaucracy. Thoughts?”

Kneeling down, Shepard picked up the rifle fallen next to the body, slinging it across her knees and turning it over to examine it. She stifled a whistle. Volkov. Pricey.

“Somewhere definitely not our job, Commander. We might just want to toss it up the chain of command and let them worry about it.”

“Pass the buck?”

Maybe this would make for a good apology. She really needed to smooth things over with Garrus after making an ass of herself. She hadn't meant to make him uncomfortable by spilling her guts like that, so maybe just a friendly 'hey here's a fancy toy' would fix things.

Not bribes; friendship guns.

“Something like that,” Pressley said. “This is out of any established jurisdiction. No local authorities to call.”

“Point made, point made. All right, I'll worry about it when-”

“Commander, just a moment.” Pressley's voice was tense.

Slinging the rifle over her shoulder, toeing the sniper over to check the rest of his gear, she waited. Relaxation was fading, all of her senses coming on high alert. The sniper's pistol wasn't great, just an old Judgment, but it looked to have been heavily modded. Maybe someone could pull it apart for her. She grabbed it as well.

As she made her way back down, idly she noted the Wrex had taken every single gun he could get his hands on while still carrying his recovered armor, and Tali was examining a single shotgun.

“Commander, reports of a Geth attack on Feros. High priority.”

“We're on our way back, prepare to set out,” Shepard snapped, despite having no idea offhand where Feros was. Didn't matter. Geth meant something Saren wanted was there.

“Shepard?” Tali asked.

“Geth attack. We've got to get out of here. Get enough toys, Wrex?”

“It'll do.”

She shook her head with a grim smile, any pleasure she felt at an op going quickly and well fading away. Feros...she needed a damn debrief on the place. She thought it was a human colony, maybe? No idea what kind, though, research or what.

The ship was buzzing with activity as they boarded, people heading to duty stations. Wrex immediately headed to his locker to offload, but Shepard didn't bother. She needed to get to the bridge. As she passed by the Mako, Garrus was ducking around the end, wiping off his hands.

Slinging the Volkov off her back, she hefted it once to prep him. He instinctively lifted his hands, and then she tossed it. Garrus deftly caught the folded sniper rifle out of the air, and turned it over. He whistled.

“Shepard,” he said, dual-toned voice lazy with surprised approval.

“Don't say I never did anything for you,” she retorted in passing, turning to face him and flashing a wink.

Spinning back around, she continued on her way with a smile.

The smile lasted until she got into the elevator, and then she leaned against the wall and let out a long, quavering breath, reaching up to tug at the neck of her armor as if it would in any way help. Damn it, that sexy little growl in his voice when he said her name should be fucking illegal. When the hell had that happened? At some point it'd gone from a simple appreciation of the ears to something that went down the breastbone to settle in the gut like a shot of good whiskey.

Fire and then spreading warmth.

“The last thing you need is a boner for a guy that could actually fucking accidentally kill you, Shepard,” she reminded herself.

Maybe this was just a symptom of realizing how much she flirted with him. Acknowledging it sort of turned her brain on its head. So to speak. It'd probably pass, then, and at least she wasn't in any danger at making an ill-advised pass at him or anything. Due to the whole...

Dying thing.

Heading on up to the bridge, she banished it from her mind. Her survey of the planetary information made it pretty damn clear what Saren was doing sending the Geth there. Prothean ruins. Reading over the info on the ExoGesi corp, she called Liara.

“Shepard?”

“Geth on Feros, I need you. The place is covered in Prothean ruins. ETA twelve hours or so. Get whatever sleep you can, I want to touch down immediately on arrival, there's colonists down there.”

“Understood, Shepard. I will make certain I'm prepared.”

Leaning back, Shepard considered her options. She'd just taken out Tali and Wrex, she wanted to take Williams on something less dire next time, after their dust up. Unfortunately, that left her with Kaidan and Garrus. She already knew what her preferred answer to that conundrum was. Shepard liked having Garrus watching her ass.

Two biotics unnecessary, but again, it looked a whole hell of a lot like shunting Kaidan aside for Garrus again. Did she want to risk making the resentment worse? Should she just take Wrex again? Tali?

“Shit.”

“Commander?” Pressley asked.

“Politics,” Shepard complained, and then shook her head. “It's fine. Bridge is yours, I still need to get out of my armor. Have them keep trying to get in contact with the colony.”

“Aye aye, Commander,” Pressley agreed.

She gave him a light cuff on the shoulder as she stepped around and headed back down again. Avoiding the bridge. Probably cowardly, but after embarrassingly yelling at Kaidan in the middle of the garage, she wasn't interested in finding out his current feelings about her.

Maybe it was wiser not to take him, considering that.

She needed someone a hundred percent at her back, and honestly she fought best with Garrus.

Leaning back against the wall of the elevator, she pursed her lips. Maybe it was necessary to take Liara and Garrus on this, and then Williams and Wrex on a smaller shakedown. She didn't need to be playing games with an active Geth attack.

Pushing off the wall, she stomped back into the garage, heading for the lockers at last. Time to get out of this damn armor. If she took a sleep aid, she might be able to get a good seven hours of sleep. Maybe. If she didn't spend three hours staring at her ceiling.

Thumbing open her locker, she began removing her armor piece by piece, examining the scarring on the chestpiece. It'd be fine. Just cosmetic. She was due for an upgrade, but she hated weighing herself down. At least this time she was at her best and not barely holding herself together.

“So was it _my_ birthday?”

Smiling to herself, Shepard shook her head, pulling the over-modded Predator down from the shelf and turning to face Garrus. He was leaning against the lockers a few feet down, back against them. She raised an eyebrow.

“I could take it back if you're feeling too bashful to accept.”

“No, no, no,” he said quickly, making her smile. “I'm good.”

“If I didn't snatch it, Wrex would have just added it to his hoard,” Shepard said, and Garrus laughed quietly. “Besides, kind of a peace offering.”

“Peace offering?” Garrus asked, puzzled. “Did I miss a fight, Shepard?”

“No, just...I felt bad about spilling my guts like that, I could tell it made you uncomfortable,” she said, turning the Predator over in her hands. “I went too far, and I'm-”

“Shepard!”

Glancing up and over, she raised an eyebrow. Wrex tossed something at her, and she caught it out of the air, briefly fumbling with the predator. It smacked against her chest, and she caught it with the fold of her arm. Glancing down at the pistol clutched to her chest, she blinked at it, and then back up at Wrex.

He was already walking away.

“Well, now I feel bad for thinking he wouldn't share...”

“Shepard, I-” Garrus sounded embarrassed, and he shifted awkwardly as she turned her attention back to him. Funny how she could tell now. She was getting better at reading his body language. “You didn't go too far. I appreciated it. You could say I...embarrassed myself.”

“I-” She stalled, remembering her idiotic flustering in the elevator. Shaking her head, Shepard smiled. “I guess I get that, I've been known to as well. Still. I want you to feel comfortable telling me if I get to be too much. I know I can be.”

There was a long pause, but when she glanced his way he was staring out across the garage, and not at her. Finally he nodded. “Duly noted.”

“What are the chances you wanna try out that sexy new gun?” She tilted her head to the side. “I'm taking Liara, Feros is apparently covered in Prothean ruins. Which means I need someone who can cover from a distance.”

“A second round of bets, Shepard?” he asked, and then lowered his voice. “You know I'm at your back, but- and not trying to overstep here- is this going to make things harder for you?”

“You're not overstepping. Trust me, I've been rolling that over in my head. And I've come to the conclusion...”

“Hmm?”

“I don't give a fuck,” she finished, glancing over with a smile. “I fight best with you. That's all that matters. There are people counting on us.”

He cleared his throat roughly. “I ah- thanks, Shepard.”

“Just stating a fact,” she said with a shrug, and offered over the Predator. “If you wanna make up the gun to me, though, pull this apart for me and see if there's anything worth saving?”

He grabbed it swiftly, turning it over. His voice relaxed. “Yeah, I think I can do that. Who would mod the hell out of this piece of junk?”

“Maybe it had sentimental value,” she said with a shrug, staring at the pistol pensively. “I try not to get attached to things, but I know some people do. Spent too much time moving as a kid to get hung up on stuff. What about you? You get sentimental about stuff?”

“I have a few things I'd find hard to get rid of,” he admitted. “You really don't have anything?”

“I don't like shopping, and I don't like carrying a lot around. Well, except one thing,” she admitted, shrugging a shoulder. “But it's more of an inheritance than something I collected. I have an actual physical book I keep, made of paper and everything. It was my mom's dad's, he was Alliance, too. It's an ancient earth military treatise, a foundation for Human military tactics throughout history. Called the Art of War.”

“I think Joker mentioned that before,” Garrus said thoughtfully. “Something about you quoting it too much?”

“My head is full of a lot of useless quotes,” she admitted cheerfully. “It's like a substitute for being actually wise, just quoting things actually smart people said. Then again, the only true wisdom is knowing you know nothing.”

“Is that right?” he asked with a chuckle, and then lifted the pistol. “I'll get this pulled apart. Mako's ready to go if we need it. What's the ETA?”

“Twelve hours or so. I'm going to go dose myself and try to get some sleep so I have time to warm up and limber before we touch down. I plan to win this time.”

Garrus gestured to the other pistol, and she tilted her head and handed it over. “I think I can make something decent out of both of these. Brawler. That's a good gun.”

“Not gonna sabotage me to win the bet, are you?”

“Excuse me?” Garrus turned towards her, tilting his head to the side. Disbelief crept into his voice, with a hint of a threat. “I think I misheard you there.”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” she said, crossing her arms and grinning, slumping back against the lockers. “I'll speak slower for your lagging translator. You can't win unless you sabotage me,” she slowed down the last two words, pronouncing them carefully, “can you?”

“I think you'll find I already did,” he said, leaning on his shoulder against the locker, facing her. Too far to be looming over her, but close. “Twice.”

“Ah, but Garrus, you know I wasn't at my best. You can't handle my best,” she said with a smirk, voice oozing cockiness. She knew they were both escalating, and that was stupid, but damned if she was going to be the one to stop it, either.

This was another competition, with the same thrill and demands as the other kind. Maybe that's why they always ended up flirting. It was just another kind of testing each other. And damn did it feel good.

“I think you need to be taken down a peg, Shepard.”

Oh, she shouldn't, she really, really shouldn't.

“Well, one of us is gonna have to end up on their back, Garrus,” she said, before she could stop herself from letting it out.

He instantly froze, and so did she, cursing her own stupid tongue. Shit. Closing her eyes, she began laughing at herself, slapping a hand over her face. After a few seconds, he began chuckling as well, until they were both laughing.

Helpless, easy, it washed any possibility of awkwardness between them.

“Shit,” she sighed, chest shivering with chagrined laughter. “I'm sorry.”

“Well, you weren't doing it alone,” he replied with a faint, raspy chuckle.

“To tango,” she said with amusement, and then laughed at his curious look. “It takes two to tango, it's a dance. More human idiom nonsense. I can try...” She trailed off, not quite willing to go putting the label 'flirt' on it out loud.

“Hmm?”

“To stop, I can try to stop. It's hard, it seems that trying to one-up you comes naturally to me,” she said with a shrug, folding her arms again. “I'm sure you don't want people getting the wrong idea.”

“I'm sure _you_ don't want them getting the wrong idea,” Garrus countered. “You're the Commander, Shepard.”

_But was it the wrong idea?_

Shaking off that pernicious thought, because it _had_ to be the wrong idea for SO many reasons, Shepard acknowledged, “people would talk, I guess.”

“People are already talking.”

Surprised by his admission at first, and then as the shock faded...very, very not surprised at all, she mulled that over. Was that why he'd said he 'embarrassed himself' the other day? Maybe worried about what people were saying?

“I umh, can see how that might make you uncomfortable,” she said. “Especially on a mostly-human ship, people gossiping about you and-”

“I don't care what other people think,” he interrupted, but his voice sounded odd when he said it. She searched his face, head tilting to the side.

“You sound surprised by that.”

“I am,” he said with a chuckle, and she laughed.

Again, it eased the tension between them.

“Well, then, it's our banter, so I say let them talk. I enjoy it, a little fun and laughter makes all the heavy things easier to carry. You want me to stop, or ease up, or go full professional, all you have to do is say the word. It's between us, no one else,” Shepard said with a shrug, trying to keep her voice light. It was a lot to ask of anyone, especially the lone Turian on a ship full of humans with a family- or personal- history of grudges against his people.

“Understood,” he said with a nod. The moment stretched between them for a few seconds, before he sighed. “I can't feel good about this.”

Her chest froze, smile fading away. “Good about what?”

“Feros,” Garrus said, and she relaxed. “Don't you feel like we're always one step behind? Everywhere we go, Saren's already gone. We're always just a little too late.”

“Hey,” she interrupted firmly, keeping her voice warm and confident. “We're not one step behind, we've got him _running_. There's a difference. We're stopping the shit he's doing, we're cutting off his reinforcements, saving people, and we're going to keep cutting him down until he's got nowhere to run.”

“And what then?” he asked, fingers tightening on the weapons he was holding, voice rising angrily. “Do you really believe the Council will believe us this time if we bring him in alive? Isn't it better to not even give them the chance? If they let him go, more and more people will die, Shepard!”

Shepard dropped her head. She let out a sigh, and then lifted her head and met his eyes, putting every ounce of sincerity that she could into her voice. Her hands clenched tightly at her sides, understanding the frustration in his voice. The helplessness of knowing you could try to do the right thing, by the book, and people would still suffer. “I don't execute people, Garrus. If I have the chance, yes, I'll take him in alive. We will. And then we will _fight_ until justice is done. I swear to you.”

“And if you don't get the chance?”

“Then I'll take the shot,” she said simply.

He stared at her for a few seconds, and then sighed heavily, stance relaxing. “Okay. I'll go take care of this for you.”

“Thanks, Garrus,” she said, nodding her head, holding herself back from reaching for his shoulder. The need to comfort him, make that physical connection was almost overwhelming. When he turned and left, she glanced down and uncurled her fingers from her palm.

Bright red half-moon impressions stood out starkly against her pale skin.

At least she wasn't bleeding.

Why the hell had he said that?

Shepard had given him the perfect out, something where they could keep their friendship while still taking a step back. No hard feelings, no misunderstandings. All Garrus had to do was say yes, that it did bother him that people were talking about them, and he knew that would have been it. Shepard bent over backwards to get along with people even when he personally thought she shouldn't.

She would have understood.

But he'd said he didn't care what people said- and he didn't.

He respected the hell out of Shepard, and he wouldn't have hurt her reputation for anything, but he also respected her too much to assume he needed to 'protect' her. If she could shrug off people's opinions, so could he. They were friends. It was just friendly, and it would stay that way.

Provided he dealt with the thing he'd been avoiding _now._

Liara glanced up as he entered the lab, smiling softly. “Garrus.”

“I was hoping I could to talk to you before we arrive at Feros,” he said.

“Oh, are you joining Shepard and I?” she asked, and then understanding dawned, her smile fading. “Oh.”

“What we talked about when we were bringing Tali back to the ship-”

An embarrassing memory, his drunken rant about his confusion with Shepard. The flirting, the spates of awkwardness, the conflicting desire to get close to her and the overwhelming fear of what would happen to her if he did.

“I know how to be discreet, Garrus,” Liara said with a smile.

“I actually just finished talking to Shepard,” he said, shaking his head. “I was drunk, Liara. Feeling confused, that's all. I think I mistook a bit of harmless flirting for something else because _someone_ went and put it in my head.”

There was absolutely nothing about flirting with Shepard that felt harmless. It felt dangerous. Exciting. Challenging.

It felt like balancing on a knife's edge.

Liara smiled. “Well, you would better than I. Is it because she's human?”

“Maybe that's part of it,” he acknowledged. “I think I misread some of the things she does. Shepard has a way of making you think things between you are intimate, or special, and I think that's just her being her, and not-”

“I understand entirely what you mean, but also, Garrus- I don't think you were entirely incorrect,” Liara said, tilting her head to the side. “I don't think you should dismiss things so easily. You two seem-”

He couldn't let her finish that, not with where his head was at. “I think I'm going to. It's just never going to happen, better not to even think about it.”

“Because she's human?” Liara asked sympathetically.

Yes, but no. Because she was human, and he doubted Shepard was even attracted to him. And because...all the things that would go through his head when she smiled up at him, voice all cocky and provocative were impossible. Because it made him remember how fighting her had felt, and the bizarre way humans were so soft, and then so hard the instant the muscles tensed under her skin. The curve of her neck when she tilted her head to the side, the way her hips moved when she walked.

He was starting to think about her in ways he'd never thought about a human before, and absolutely none of those thoughts were even possible.

“Yeah, because she's human,” he lied with nod of his head.

No, it was because she was Shepard.

“Well, you know, we can't control who we are attracted to. If the attraction isn't there it isn't there. But Humans are an interesting species, don't you think?” Liara said conversationally, smiling to herself. “I'm enjoying getting to know them. So alike other species in some ways but so very, very different. Noisy and chaotic.” There was a significant note to her voice.

“You think that's why she confuses me?” he asked, and chuckled faintly. “Well, I can't say you're wrong. Thanks, Liara. I just didn't want you to think I was going into the mission still...with my head somewhere else.”

“It's no problem, Garrus. Are we betting again?”

“Of course,” he said, moving for the door. “We'll have to talk details once we get there.”

“I look forward to it,” Liara said, tipping her head.

There was a thought in his head he couldn't quite purge. Something to put a cap on this all, end it so he could keep the damn thoughts in the back of his head where they belonged. Pausing in the doorway, he glanced back at Liara one last time and laughed.

“Besides, a Human, attracted to a Turian? Yeah, right.”


	12. Chapter 12

Garrus stared at the board, leaning back in his seat.

“So is this a Turian thing?” Joker asked as he took the seat at the head of the table, dropping his breakfast. “The morning before walking into possible death at the hands of the Geth, you do the most boring thing you can think of?”

“And what am I supposed to do? Get drunk? The Commander would love that,” Garrus said, watching as Adams surveyed the holographic board with a critical stare. For not having known the game a week ago, he was pretty decent.

“Might make things more interesting around here.”

“Does this board only play one game, Garrus?” Tali asked, helmet resting on her hand as she stared at the game in progress.

“Yeah. I haven't added anything else to it.”

“I could modify it,” Tali said. “It seems a shame to use it for only one game.”

“This is really the only game I ever play,” he admitted, attention focusing as Adams moved a unit towards his left flank. “Hmm.”

The spatter of greetings echoing through the mess announced Shepard's arrival, but he kept his attention on the game, arms crossed. Adams was better, but still not good enough to realize he'd left himself open to a central advance. That was the trouble with playing the Turian side, you had to always be thinking at minimum five steps ahead.

But Adams had insisted he didn't want to be Krogan.

“Do you play any board games, Shepard?” Tali asked.

Shepard laughed, her shivering, smoky laugh. “Me? Uh. Only the usual ones Human kids play. Checkers. Candy Land. Monopoly.”

“No one should ever play Monopoly,” Joker said darkly. “It ruins fr- AUGH! That's disgusting! You're all sweaty!”

Blinking, Garrus glanced up just in time to watch Joker cringe as Shepard dragged her hand across the back of his neck. There was a familiar little smirk on her lips as she continued on her way, opening a cabinet to dig in one of the crates of emergency rations. After seeing her get to enjoy actual food, he felt a bit more sympathy. It couldn't be pleasant.

But she never complained.

He averted his eyes back to the board when she popped up on her toes, leaning over the counter to dig in further with an arch of her partially-bare back above her shorts. Definitely not something he should be staring at.

“Shepard, is it rude to ask about your markings? I haven't seen another human with ones like yours,” Tali said.

Garrus sent a legion of Krogan Warriors to threaten Adams' front line.

“M-my what?” Shepard asked, laughing. She took the seat across from Tali, diagonal from Garrus.

“Is that the wrong word? I'm sorry. Asari call theirs markings,” Tali said, gesturing from Shepard's lightly-flushed face to her arms. “Your spots!”

Shepard laughed, throwing her head back, and Joker and Adams laughed as well, quieter. Leaning forward again, Shepard shook her head at Tali with a smile, tearing open her first bar. “Sorry, I've just never heard them called that. We call them freckles. It's just a different pigmentation pattern in the skin that darkens or appears with UV exposure. It's genetically linked to certain-”

“Pasty redheads,” Joker interrupted mockingly. Shepard stuck her tongue out at him.

“I just get them more than most due to various factors, if you look closely, a lot of humans have freckles. Joker has them,” Shepard said impishly. “I just have a lot of them and they're more noticeable on me due to my skin tone.”

“Well, they're pretty,” Tali said.

Shepard actually looked flustered, which was funny, ducking her head and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Odd things, human ears.

“Thanks, Tali. That's really nice of you to say. What's the sort of thing that Quarians find complimentary? Because honestly sometimes I hold back because I don't want to say something offensive.”

Tali gave a soft 'hmm' under her breath. “Oh, you know. Grace. Intelligence. Skills. Individual accomplishments. Oh, also the usual physical attributes.”

“What are the usual things?” Joker asked.

“Hips and waist? Obviously not someone you've just met, unless you're showing sexual interest,” Tali said.

Yeah, Garrus was definitely sitting this conversation out. Didn't mean he wasn't listening, though.

“Really?” Joker asked with a laugh.

“Is that strange for Humans?”

“No, that's pretty universal,” Shepard said, giving Joker a warning look. “I think to us it just sounds odd to think of going 'hey, nice waist' to someone. But it's not like it's not an unattractive feature. It's just not what we tend to focus on. Plus our sexual focus tends to change depending on gender presentation and sexual orientation.”

“Hey, I might be straight, but I know when a guy has a nice butt. I'm just not gonna stare at it,” Joker said.

“Point. I'm definitely not the one to speak from the straight perspective,” Shepard said, and turned her attention to the game, tapping fingers on her jaw. “So, who's winning?”

“He won three turns ago,” Adams finally said from in the depths of the board, sounding a little disgusted. “Now I'm just trying to figure out how he did.”

“In your defense, the game has a steep learning curve. I still haven't beaten my father,” Garrus said, and then finally glanced up and over, meeting the dark brown eyes watching curiously. The change in topic made it easier. “Shepard.”

She smiled, tilting her head to the side. “Vakarian. Garrus Vakarian.”

“Yes, very funny. You're never going to let that one go,” he sighed, shaking his head and looking back to the board as Adams made his move. Not what he'd anticipated. Still meant he lost, but it also meant he was learning.

“I never let a bad joke go. Ever. They get better as they age. Besides, a C-Sec officer introducing himself like he was freaking James Bond was pretty hilarious.” At his questioning look, her lips quirked up into a smile. “A vid character. Super smooth super spy, always introduces himself like that. There's like...fifty of the movies.”

“Well, I am super smooth,” Garrus allowed.

“Oh please,” Joker scoffed.

Shepard laughed, breaking off another piece of her bar. “I'm gonna assume you're all ready to go in the next hour?”

“More ready than you are,” Garrus replied, hiding a smile as he moved his Battlemaster.

“Damn it,” Adams cursed.

“Fair,” Shepard allowed with a laugh. “I just need to shower and get into my armor. I just needed time to warm up.”

“You're taking this competition pretty seriously,” Garrus said, smiling finally at her scoff. “Losing hurt that bad, Shepard?”

“Wait, competition?” Joker interjected. “What competition?”

“Shepard, Garrus, and Liara compete for kills when they fight together,” Tali said with a soft giggle. “But really only Shepard and Garrus take it seriously. Liara says she's just playing along. They're too competitive for her.”

“I am not too competitive,” Shepard protested, and shared a look with him. Her eyes were intense, fixed on his. “We are not too competitive.”

"It's everyone else that isn't competitive enough,” he agreed with her, only partially because he was becoming aware that he couldn't argue with her when she was staring at him like that.

“Thank you. At least _someone's_ on my side. All right, I'm going to go get in gear. Three quarters of an hour I expect you on the bridge, ready to go.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he agreed, glancing back to the board. “You sure you want to make that move?”

Adams stopped, frowning and leaning back to stare at the board, hand falling. Shepard slung up from the table and disappeared again, though he could hear her greeting people by name and making her various cheerful, friendly little remarks in passing. The instant her voice faded, Joker turned an accusing look on him.

“Kiss ass.”

“Is that an offer? I didn't think I was your type, Joker."

“Oh ha ha,” Joker said sarcastically. “So what are the terms of this bet? Just straight kills? What about assists?”

“Moreau, don't make a book on the Commander's bets,” Adams said absently.

“Straight kills. Kind of hard to quantify anything else when you're in the middle of a firefight,” Garrus said. “And for Geth it means when they stop getting back up.”

“Okay, okay,” Joker said thoughtfully, bringing up his omni-tool. “And you say you won twice last time?”

“The first bet was headshots, which wasn't a fair metric, so we switched to kills for the second bet,” Garrus said, not bothering to hide his laugh. “Second bet, Shepard got second, Liara got third.”

“How did you know what I was gonna ask?”

“Because I know how bets are set up, Joker. So what are my odds?”

“Do you have specific numbers?” Joker asked, and then sighed at his head-shake. “Well, that's no good. Can you try to remember them this time? It helps the calculations.”

“I'll see what I can do.”

“Excuse me, I gotta go talk to some people,” Joker said, slinging up from the table and wandering off without another word. Garrus watched him go, amused. What Shepard would think of it, he wasn't sure, but he knew she'd be annoyed if the crew didn't bet on her.

“Damn it!” Adams abruptly cursed, drawing Garrus' attention back. “That's how you did it!”

Garrus chuckled, pushing back in his seat. “I knew you'd catch on. You want me to leave the board?”

“Yes,” Adams agreed, elbows on the table as he steepled his hands together for a moment. “I want to watch the full replay, see where I went wrong.”

The weathered hand extended across the table to him was a surprise, but a welcome one. Reaching out, he clasped it and accepted the shake. Time on the ship had him getting used to those simple Human gestures. They had a lot of them.

“Good game, Adams.”

“Hopefully better next time,” Adams murmured thoughtfully.

“I'm sure you will be,” Garrus said, and rose himself, leaving his seat for Tali to ponder over the board with Adams.

Time to get ready.

Hopefully this would go better than Noveria.

Walking in blind was not what Shepard wanted.

Unfortunately, the spaceport was dead on the comm front no matter how they tried to communicate. It made her uneasy as they landed, a sense of creeping dread. Still she kept it back as best she could, joked and smiled, promised to be back by lunch. Then she left the ship, helmet on despite the pressurization in the airlock.

She wouldn't want the doctor getting upset with her.

As they trooped out into the spaceport, the unease abruptly peaked. In the distance, down the walkway, a single figure was waiting. Just standing there.

“Shepard?” Garrus asked quietly.

“No weapons, but be on alert,” she replied, and then began her approach, lifting a hand in easy greeting. “Hey! We were beginning to think this rock was empty.”

It was a human man they approached, older. She searched his face as they closed in. Staring into his eyes from behind the cover of her helmet.

“We saw your ship,” he said briskly. “Fai Dan wants to see you.”

“Sure, no problem. Who would Fai Dan be?” Shepard asked easily.

His voice became stilted, eyes shifting. Nervous. “He's our...leader. He needs your help to prepare for the Geth. They're preparing for another push.”

Shepard was preparing for a verbal push of her own, but-

“Take cover!” Liara shouted, and something slammed into Shepard from behind, pulling her off of her feet.

Disoriented, dizzied, she saw nothing as her back slammed into a scarred concrete barrier, an explosion rocketing past with heat and impact. She winced and flinched away as it momentarily deafened, and then glanced up again. Into Garrus' face. He'd pulled her out of the path of the rocket.

And now they were chest to chest, fallen together with his knee between her thighs and his hand pressed against the barrier next to her waist. There was absolutely no space between them, to the point that she could feel the pressure of the armor plating covering his thigh directly against her groin. Oh God was she ever glad they were both wearing armor.

“Jesus, Garrus, how many times are you gonna save my life?” she asked, voice embarrassingly low and breathy.

“As many as it takes.” His voice was a low rasp, a pleasant little vibration warming in her chest.

It pulled at her, and she couldn't have helped the small, instinctive arch of her back towards him if she'd tried. Out of the corner of her vision, his hand against the wall flexed, dragging in closer.

“Geth!” Liara reminded them.

“Shit,” she choked out as Garrus cleared his throat awkwardly and rolled to the edge of cover, reaching for his rifle.

Leaning in to the sudden surge of adrenaline, Shepard grinned to herself and unholstered her new pistol, scooting her ass up the wall as she found her feet. “Liara, what am I looking at?”

“Troopers! Two of them, and a shock trooper, Shepard! Cover, no shields!”

“One on the right, two on the left! No, wait, they've got a shield up!” Garrus added.

“Liara, give me a lift on the one on the right when I make my surge. Garrus, on my six, you know what to do!”

No protests from either of them. Good.

Slapping his shoulder, she skidded around him and took one glance down the walkway. When the shock trooper lowered its rifle briefly, she took the opening and started sprinting, ignoring Garrus' curse from behind her. He could be annoyed all he wanted.

This wasn't Noveria, she wasn't hiding.

Liara took her target out of the running, a shot from Garrus' cover fire pinging off the shoulder of a Geth that leaned out to take aim at her. Shepard just bolted, firing at the shock trooper as she closed the distance. Pistol shots cracked through its armor, leaving it vulnerable as she reached the low crate it was using as cover.

Planting a foot on the crate, she used her momentum and launched herself at the Geth, her omni-tool flashing out a micro-thin blade as she came down on the shock trooper. One slash, two, and she managed to sever the connections that connected its head to its body, lights dimming.

The shield in front of her fell as the Geth behind it collapsed as well, a sniper shot through the middle of its optics.

“Incoming!” Garrus warned her.

Launching herself backwards over the crate and off the Geth, Shepard vaulted neatly and then landed on her stomach, stretching out and peering around the edge of the crate.

“What is that?”

“One, one, and one!” Garrus shouted back. “It would have been two for me if I wasn't trying not to kill you!”

Another trooper came around the corner, and she took it out at both knees. A rifle shot cracked through the air where its head had been seconds before, and Shepard cackled to herself. The Geth collapsed to the ground, and she killed it with three more shots.

“Excuse me?!”

“All's fair in love and war, Garrus! Try to keep up!”

They fought their way through the spaceport, adrenaline pounding in her ears. This was what she'd wanted before. The give and take, the banter and flow- it was what had kept her going on Noveria, and now she wasn't half dead. It felt even better this time.

She wasn't going to go full hyperbole and say better than sex, but they were pretty tied.

As long as it was _good_ sex.

The stalker was a problem, the lithe skittering Geth fading in and out of visibility, but she was more jealous of the stealth capabilities than scared. Imagine what she could do with that kind of tech. Garrus would never get a kill again.

When he finally took out the stalker, she acknowledged his kill-count shout begrudgingly.

“I had it,” she said irritably.

“Whatever you say, Shepard!” he retorted arrogantly.

The situation when they finally found the colonists seemed dire. Shepard moved through them, reassuring as best she could as she took in the situation. They had a few people to watch this side, but it sounded like they were pincered in here. Attacked on either flank- not a good situation to be in.

As they began reaching the far side, they finally ran into Fai Dan. Before she had a chance to do any interrogating, unfortunately, they were under attack again.

Leaving the colonists as defense, she pressed forward, Liara and Garrus at her back.

They couldn't get any kind of information with these people under pressure like this. They cleaned out the Geth methodically, wending through the strange Prothean ruin, until a roar from above had her staring up through a slit in the architecture. Above, the strangely insectoid ship of the Geth was withdrawing.

“Shit, where do you think they're holed up?”

“Maybe Fai Dan knows something,” Garrus said. “The area's clear.”

“Liara, any thoughts from the state of these ruins?”

“I'm afraid not, Shepard. There doesn't seem to be anything particularly of note about this structure, but if the ruins are as extensive as they appear, there could be any number of things that might interest Saren.”

Shepard grumbled faintly, but her annoyance wasn't with Liara. She was down by one kill and they were out of Geth. It was an irritation on her mind as they got directions from Fai Dan and continued on to the skyway, and into the awaiting Mako. Liara and Garrus had the good sense not to protest.

“Kills in here don't count, or you'll get them all,” Shepard pointed out to Garrus, waiting for the garage to open. “Unless I ram everything, I guess.”

“ _Please_ try not to ram anything,” Liara said.

“Well, since you said please.”

Banter died as they headed out onto the skyway, dodging Geth that dropped from the sky. Her mind was on the road, but damn it if there wasn't a small part of her brain that was still fixated on that split second in the spaceport when they'd been chest to chest and his knee was just- armor or no armor, that had been a moment. Not a flirting, banter, or joking around moment. A very _physical_ moment.

A very ' _oh no_ ' sort of moment.

She tried not to let it distract her, but it kept popping up frustratingly. God damn it she needed to get back to fighting. Purge this energy somehow.

The radio cutting in and out as they approached a tunnel ahead was reassuring- survivors.

Once past the Geth they found them, holed up in a small area that didn't look stable enough to Shepard. Her attempt to get them to leave was refused, which she understood even if she didn't like it. It was hard to convince civilians to go make a run for it when they were hiding from killer machines. Hopefully this place didn't collapse.

After gathering intel about the ExoGeni headquarters up ahead and checking in with people, Shepard gestured Liara and Garrus back to the Mako with her.

The uneasy feeling she'd felt at the spaceport was back.

“I don't like this,” she admitted. “Maybe it's remnants of Noveria, but I'm not feeling very lenient towards corporations right now, especially not ones that say shady shit like 'don't touch anything, it's private property' when I'm busy saving their asses.”

“Do you think Saren was investing in research with ExoGeni as well, Shepard?” Liara asked quietly.

“I'm saying I can't rule it out. I'm also saying that my job is to stop Saren within the law as much as possible, but that doesn't extend to privacy rights of shady corporations with no manners.”

“If only they'd been a little more polite, they could have saved themselves a whole lot of trouble,” Garrus drawled, shaking his head.

“That's me, a whole lot of trouble,” Shepard said. A garage door ahead rolled open, revealing another Geth blockade ahead. “Speaking of...”

With a minimum of ramming they made their way through, and Shepard managed not to drive them off the edge into oblivion, a feat she really thought she should get some props for. Unfortunately, inside the garage was not her well-deserved kudos, but more Geth. At least she managed to pull ahead in the kill count.

She hadn't been feeling very hopeful, so finding someone alive was a nice. Even if they fired at her. Calming down Lizbeth was easy, but yet again Shepard was confronted with the sneaking suspicion that not everyone was being honest with her.

With Lizbeth's keycard in hand, they headed further into the headquarters. Unfortunately, it wasn't any more Geth they were faced with, but the eternal hard-counter to Shepard's fighting style. A Krogan.

Close quarters was chaos, and while she would have happily tried to spar Wrex, getting shoulder-slammed into a wall by a mountain of Krogan trying to murder her was a different beast. Even with no air in her lungs she managed to gut-shot him off of her while he was barraged from behind. Her vision was starting to black at the edges, lungs struggling as her upper chest was crushed. Oh god. When the Krogan's shield finally died with a crackle he let her fall, and she wheezed and rolled out of the way across rubble, dodging his wildly-swinging rifle.

“Shield down!”

It wasn't her, and it wasn't a victorious call. It was warning. Shit. Shit, shit!

Terror flooded through her.

“Garrus is down!” Liara called, and the panic sharpened to a sudden desperation.

Her fractured, confused vision swung wildly as she staggered to her feet. Everything was hazy and grayed, but she could see the Krogan's back. Turned to her.

All instinct, she pelted at him, launching herself upwards, scrabbling over the Krogan's hunched, armored back. Reaching the head, she slung her arm around the massive neck as best as she could, bringing up her pistol directly to his head. One shot. Two.

The enemy was swaying, and her grip was faltering, but she kept firing as he sagged.

He fell with a thunderous impact.

Shepard was thrown to the side, a slab of stone jabbing into her side as she rolled away. It was an uncontrolled tumble, her helmet cracking into the ground, rattling her brains. Finally she came to a stop, skidding on her side into a wall. Three seconds passed, counted silently as she tried to make her lungs work again.

Shepard inhaled, and all the pain flooded in.

Ow.

“I'm all right, Liara,” a welcome voice said roughly, and relief washed over her, taking away the panic. It was okay. Garrus was okay. “Shepard?!”

Limply she lifted her gloved hand, sticking up her thumb.

She dropped it, trying to wipe the dust from her helmet so she could fucking see again. Nothing wrong some medi-gel wouldn't fix. By the time an armored, three-fingered hand was extended down to her, she was ready to take it. But apparently not ready to stand.

She staggered as Garrus pulled her up, one leg buckling, and he immediately tucked his arm around her, under her arms. “Hey.”

“I just need a second,” she coughed. Normally this would be too close, far too close, but she was fully armored, and damn it, she needed the support. When she let herself sag into the security of his side, he stiffened, but his arm tightened at the same time.

After a few seconds, she felt him relax, with a long sigh.

“You scared me,” she admitted quietly.

“Yeah, you scared me too,” he agreed quietly. “That's one for you, Trouble. Thanks.”

She laughed roughly. “Trouble? Is that supposed to be a compliment, or...?”

“I don't know,” he admitted quietly. “I just know that it's true.”

Her smile faded, and a pensive mood replaced it. The silence between them brought with it a distance, the intimacy fading. She found her footing and nodded, and he pulled away. Dropping her arm, she fought the urge to wrap both of hers around herself.

She missed the support already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to split the chap so it didn't get too bulky. Thank you for reading along! All the support has been wonderful. <3 <3 Happy Friday! See you again tomorrow for more!


	13. Chapter 13

Shepard was in a cold fury.

Garrus and Liara held their distance as she paced in front of the VI waiting patiently for input. Her movements were short and sharp, in control. Still, he couldn't help but glance down to watch her feet, ensuring she was steady now. Her limp body lying on the broken ground had more than worried him- it was uncomfortable even now in hindsight, that painful twist he had felt.

And despite lying battered on the ground, her first thought had been reassuring them.

_Shepard._

“All right,” he finally said, interrupting her icy rant with a step in. He reached out for her shoulder without a thought, stalling her, but the contact brought back to mind every one that had come before it. Things were...

Complicated.

And getting more so by the second, it felt like.

“I wanted to be wrong. I wanted to be wrong, Garrus,” she said, sounding betrayed.

“I know,” he said, squeezing her shoulder lightly.

“Fucking corporate fucks! Experimenting on their own people? Fucking...mind control?” Shepard said, but her voice was quieter now. When his hand slid down to clasp her upper arm, she sighed heavily. There was a slight shift of her body forward that he wanted to intercept with his, give her something to brace against.

But no.

_No, no, no._

“Shepard,” he said, pushing her upright. “You should contact Joker.”

“Right,” she said, her focus snapped back into place. She stepped away from him, and his hand dropped back to his side. Garrus watched as effortless strength bled back into her, straightening her shoulders. There was the Commander.

“Joker. Joker, come-” She stopped, and gave an irritated sigh. “The Geth ship must be interfering.”

“We need to drop the field and return to Zhu's Hope,” Liara said.

“I agree,” Shepard said. “Let's go see what we can do about that damn ship.”

She beckoned them on, and they fell back into the easy rhythm of before as they cut through more Geth. It was effortless to fight with her. Anticipating her was starting to become second nature, taking the shots that opened when she went and made herself a target. Which she did.

A lot.

They wended their way through the Prothean ruins, taking out Geth on the way. It wasn't the only enemy on Shepard's mind. He couldn't say he disagreed with her as she accessed every terminal they passed, downloading every scrap of data they could find into her omni-tool. Liara scanned the memos and notes they found with her.

Unfortunately, it seemed just as bad as the VI had made it sound.

“Does Saren want the Thorian? Mind control...like what he did to-” Shepard stopped.

“My mother,” Liara finished calmly. “It is possibly the only thing that makes sense; the research on the entity seems to have become the sole purpose of the colony.”

“I suppose if they sell every Prothean artifact they find here back to the company, there probably isn't anything here,” Shepard said, frowning as she pushed away from the console. “Or at least not something they _know_ is here.”

“The Thorian makes sense,” Garrus said, following as Shepard beckoned them on. “He could be trying to..”

“Mind-control an army?” Shepard quipped, disgust warring with humor.

Garrus tilted his head toward her, and she nodded. “Something like that.”

“Yay,” Shepard muttered sarcastically. “There's another one of those claws...I don't think there's any moving it. We'll have to keep looking for one we can dislodge.”

They passed by the metal talon that held the ship to the tower, and conversation was interrupted as they forged into more Geth. An awkward fight, down a staircase and into a choke point held by the machines, but Shepard made for a good distraction.

Now that he was fighting with her again at her best, he could see why she wanted him at her back. Her tendency to fling herself into what looked like certain danger drew fire and attention. Which left the Geth open to _his_ careful shots.

They cleared the room, but the choke point of the doorway was still held, a shield in the way.

When Shepard threw herself over the side of the staircase, vaulting in a completely unnecessary back tuck, he couldn't help his scoff. “I don't think the Geth are impressed, Shepard!”

Still, he knelt and lined up the shot, waiting until Shepard reappeared, plastering herself against the wall next to the doorway. He focused the scope on her just in time to see her flip him off. And while he was doing that, a chunk of broken stonework smashed through the shield and into the Geth, sending it skidding into the room beyond.

Liara walked past Garrus on the staircase sedately, glancing sidelong with a faint smile. “Try to keep up, Garrus.”

Grumbling, he pushed up to his feet and followed. Shepard was laughing, lifting a hand to Liara as she approached. Liara paused, curiously tilting her head to the side.

“High five,” Shepard explained cheerfully. “Slap your hand against mine. It's used as a greeting, or congratulations.”

“You humans and your hand gestures,” he said with amusement as Liara and Shepard slapped their hands together.

“We have a whole language that consists of hand gestures, actually. I learned it when I was young, but I'm a little rusty,” Shepard said, pushing off the wall, preceding them both through the doorway. “This Brawler is doing _work_ , by the way. I think I might have a new favorite gun.” The delight in her voice made the work more than worth it.

“Happy to help,” Garrus said, and he knew he hadn't hidden the pleased warmth her words had brought up when Liara gave him an amused look over her shoulder.

It faded as they trooped into the thankfully Geth-free room.

“Could this be a containment lab?” Liara asked thoughtfully.

“Hmmh, could be for sure,” Shepard said, scanning the room slowly. “That looks like a server node. Garrus, can you strip anything you can get your hands on off of it while I check out the far end? Liara, watch our backs.”

“You've got it, Shepard,” he agreed, heading for the node and away from any more knowing looks from Liara.

“Yes, Shepard.”

It was just a moment's work to hack into the server, leaving him free to scan the room as his omni-tool downloaded the data. Inevitably, his eyes were drawn back to Shepard. She was leaning with her hands braced to either side of a console, one finger tapping a restless rhythm. Unfortunately, the conversation in the mess and their earlier run-ins were still in his head, playing on repeat the instant he had a second to breathe.

Getting attached to Shepard was one of the worst ideas he'd ever had in his life- it also felt more and more inevitable.

There had been a split second there where he'd _felt_ it, a wordless acknowledgment that the attraction he wouldn't indulge was mutual. And that possibility had gone and screwed everything up. Now he was thinking about it, thinking about how different things were between them the instant they were in armor. Leaning _towards_ him instead of away. He'd never seen her actually look for physical support and comfort before.

Noveria had been worse- much worse- and she'd pushed herself through the whole way.

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, idle restlessness; Shepard never seemed to hold still. No, he shouldn't be staring, but it was hard not to. Joker had been teasing, but he was gaining a newfound appreciation for the Commander's ass that was well deserving of the small salute he gave it before forcing himself back to his work.

It was damn unfair that he was well aware of how soft she was under the armor.

These sorts of thoughts hadn't even been in his mind when they'd sparred- he couldn't even imagine how distracted he would be now, with-

“Hell to the yeah!” Shepard declared delightedly, and there was a sudden burst of screeching noise and chaos from beyond the walls.

Startling out of his thoughts, he jerked his head back up and stared at her. Liara was backing up to join them, and he pulled away from the server as they came together. “Shepard, what-”

“I closed the shuttle door on it,” she declared brightly, laughter in her words. “I guess you were right, Garrus, it only took one-”

“-I repeat, Normandy to shore party.” Joker sounded frantic. “Are you reading? Anyone there? Normandy to shore party! Come on, Faith, talk to me, please!”

“Hey, hey, I got you, I'm here,” Shepard said, in that effortlessly bracing, encouraging way she had. “I'm here, Joker. Status?”

He breathed out a long sigh, voice going more professional. “We're in lockdown here, Commander. Something happened to the colonists. They're banging on the hull, trying to claw their way inside the ship. They're freaking out!”

The Thorian. They all shared a look, and Shepard nodded in acknowledgment. “Lucky they can't do damage, then. We're going to work our way back, Joker. Hang tight.”

“Uh...yeah. Okay. We'll just wait right here for you, Shepard. Take your sweet time.”

“Hey, Joker, remember that zombie vid we watched-”

“Not the time, Shepard! What is _wrong_ with you!?”

“Shepard out,” she cackled.

“Asshole.”

The call ended, and Shepard chuckled to herself. “I'm gonna pay for that later. Okay, let's stick close and get moving before the Geth start converging. Hopefully we can stay ahead of them.”

The trek back would have been tense, but Shepard kept it light, teasing and bantering with them both. Hushed voices, though, enough so that they heard the Krogans grumbling together before they saw them. With the element of surprise, they managed to take down one before the other two even realized what was happening.

Without the cramped close quarters of the previous fight it was much easier.

Still, he was cautious- unlike Shepard.

She seemed to be testing out her tactics from the more disastrous battle, because when the last Krogan fell it was with her on its back. While he admitted it worked...

“Shepard, at the risk of sounding like Joker-”

“Their arms don't bend that far!” Shepard replied cheerful, popping up from her controlled tumble with a laugh. “I wanted to make sure I was correct.”

“No, but he could have rammed you into a wall...”

“Landed on _top_ of you,” Liara agreed.

Shepard stalked up to both of them, and he could see the grin behind the helmet. “Ah, but you're forgetting the most important part.”

“What's that?” Garrus drawled, refusing to let her cajole him into a smile.

“It worked. Also? I'm winning.”

She spun on a heel and stalked off with an arrogant little saunter, hips swaying. Yeah, definitely not something he should be staring at. When Liara gave him a very light nudge on the arm in passing he cleared his throat and started following, tightening his grip on his rifle.

He needed to stop getting distracted by Shepard.

They headed down the last staircase, and he could see Lizbeth waiting for them still, nervously shifting. When they came into view she all but ran to meet them, relieved. Considering Shepard's earlier anger, he expected her to be confrontational, but she just reached out a hand, clasping the woman by the arm.

“There you are! I was so worried. We should get out of here, this place isn't safe.”

“We'll go soon,” Shepard assured, voice warm and easy. Confiding. “But you weren't completely honest with me about the Thorian, Lizbeth, and we need to talk about that. Please.”

Lizbeth froze, her voice taking on a high note of panic. “I- I was afraid. I wanted to stop the tests, I did, but they threatened me! They told me I'd be next.”

Shepard's face tightened, but then relaxed. Her voice was nothing but sympathetic. “I understand. I'm so sorry they did that to you.”

“When the Geth attacked I stayed behind to send a message to Colonial Affairs. I tried to tell them where to find the Thorian, but the power cut before I could send the message.”

Shepard clasped her shoulder lightly. “That was brave of you, and the right thing to do. You did what you could. Where can I find the Thorian? I want to help the people who have been infected.”

“Underneath Zhu's Hope, but the entrance is blocked.”

“That explains the people attacking the Normandy,” Garrus said quietly.

“I'm certain it must be what Saren is after. We have to get to it first,” Shepard said tightly, releasing Lizbeth.

“We're getting a lot of Geth comm chatter, Commander,” Joker's voice crackled to life.

“Shit. Thanks, Joker. Let's get moving,” Shepard said.

“Please let me come with you,” Lizbeth said pleadingly. “I might be able to help undo the mess I created.”

“Absolutely,” Shepard agreed, nodding her head. Her voice was calm and confident. “But I need you to stay back, and follow my orders without question to stay safe. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” Lizbeth agreed.

They headed for the Mako together, but as Liara and Lizbeth slid inside, he caught a small gesture from Shepard, a beckon for him to stay put. She waited until the doors closed, and then glanced up at him. Her voice was low.

“I need you to keep a sharp watch on her for me.”

“Do you trust her?” he asked.

“I want to,” Shepard said, stepping closer, glancing sidelong at the vehicle. “I always want to trust people, Garrus, but shit here is underhanded and slimy, so I just need to make sure someone has eyes on her at all times.”

“Absolutely.”

“I'm glad I have you at my back,” Shepard said, tapping her fist against his shoulder lightly. “Let's get going.”

“I'm right behind you,” he assured.

With the annoying lack of self-control he seemed to have around her, his eyes dropped again as she swung into the Mako.

Behind Shepard wasn't a bad place to be.

Oh god.

She'd done it again.

The motherfucking irony button had been pushed.

“I was _joking_ about the zombies!” Shepard shouted in frustration as another of the horrific gray human-like things exploded in green goop. “Oh shit, oh god, Jesus! This is the fucking worst!'

More of them staggered towards them, claws out, and she fired wildly. Shepard knew this was ruining her fucking kill-count, but she was entirely too freaked out to care. The one charging at her exploded from a head-shot that came from behind.

“One more for me! I can't believe you're this worked up, Shepard!” Garrus replied, and she fought the urge to snap at his cocky self.

“They're ZOMBIES!” she retorted, taking down another one as they surged into the garage. “Fucking zombies!”

“I don't know what that is!”

They fought their way along as best they could, disabling the mind-controlled colonists. Eventually some of the horror and fear faded, but it did not get at all less gross. At least when Liara identified the remains as plant-like rather than actual humans she relaxed. That she could handle.

“Pod people, not zombies,” she decided as she checked the incapacitated Doyle's pulse. She'd be fine, hopefully. If they broke the mind control. Sliding her glove back on, she rose. “I can handle pod people. Remember, don't take your helmets off for anything. Spores. God, I bet I'm allergic to the Thorian, too. Maybe I should take a sample back to the doctor.”

“I can handle that for you,” Liara said.

“Thanks. Probably won't ever come up again, but I'm sure my allergist will have a field day with it. 'You don't know what this is, but I'm allergic to it', the Faith Shepard story.”

“Sounds like a real page-turner,” Garrus quipped.

She saved every colonist she could, but unfortunately there was no saving Fai Dan. As he fought the Thorian's control, she made a break for him, but it was too late. He sacrificed his life rather than fire at her, and she reached his body as he crumpled to the ground, gun falling from his hand.

Desperately she fell on her knees next to him, but she knew it was already far, far too late.

Shit.

It was another point of rage, another crime to heap on Saren's head to drive her forward. To keep her moving. They stormed below Zhu's Hope with the death fresh in her mind, her weapon ready. Unfortunately, when they arrived below, Shepard discovered she'd been wrong.

He hadn't come to the Thorian seeking an army.

He'd come for information.

The Thorian was intelligent, and a _dick_.

Wave after wave of horrific gray pod people went down as they struggled against the massive, horrifying plant-monster, shooting down its tentacle-vine things as they went. One after another they un-anchored, and she was grateful all over for Liara as she went toe to toe with cloned Asari after Asari.

“I knew plants hated me, but not this much!” Shepard quipped as they double-timed down another staircase before the next wave could pin them there. “Shit! I guess they got tired of passively trying to kill me!”

“Next time, Shepard, just piss off a nice field of flowers or something, please!”

She took down two more in close succession. One got too close, and she was showered in goo as it exploded. Ugh. She was going to have to decontaminate for ages before she could get onto the ship.

“Now you're going to accuse me of never taking you anywhere nice again!”

“Oh no, I'm having the time of my life, Shepard! I think I might move here! Retire and live out the rest of my life-” a pod person sprinting towards her exploded from a single sniper shot- “gardening!”

“Well, we're definitely doing some pruning,” Shepard said, sprinting for the edge of the railing, aiming across the way at another node clinging to the wall.

When it splattered, the Thorian roared out, thrashing as its bulk was finally too much for its remaining support. Thrashing as tentacles snapped, it fell to the floor, crashing through a hole and disappearing. Panting for breath, Shepard slumped against the railing, head spinning.

Shit.

“How many was that?” she asked weakly as Garrus joined her. He thumped a fist to her shoulder, and she returned the gesture.

“Another fifty. I'm pretty sure you're ahead by ten or so.”

A pod stuck to the wall ahead burst, and she went instantly alert, grabbing her pistol and shoving up to her feet. Another Asari clone. Shit, shit.

“Shepard, stop!” Liara interrupted, running past them, towards the Asari. “She's not a clone!”

Pistol still up, Shepard approached warily as Liara helped the Asari back to her feet. She relaxed as they came close and she realized the woman was blue, not green. A good sign.

Shiala, her name turned out to be, a follower of Benezia that Saren had sacrificed to the Thorian to get what he was after. And what he was after...was the memory of an entire extinct species. The Protheans.

Knowledge that was apparently the key to the visions that haunted her-- the Cipher.

When it flooded into her mind it was as bad as the first time- maybe worse. She was grateful that Shiala was willing to meld with her and pass it on, but when her hands dropped and Shepard returned to herself she was swaying, mind a muddled, confused mess of meaningless images. Clutching her helmet and wishing it was her skull, she swayed in place, letting Garrus grab her by the elbow.

“Shepard?”

“I'll survive,” she said, choked. Shit. She didn't want to collapse again, she'd done it too much already. Three breaths, four, leaning her weight into Garrus' support, and she managed to pull herself together. She wasn't together, not remotely.

But she could pretend until they got back to the ship.

Escaping the Thorian's den of creepy green goo and dead not-zombies, they were greeted with the remaining colonists. Free from the mind-control. It was reassuring, making her more certain that they had in fact killed the Thorian and not just temporarily inconvenienced it.

She'd seen enough movies to believe that if you didn't see the body the monster wasn't dead, but damn it she was tired after that gauntlet.

“I will never be clean again,” she sighed as they trooped back to the Normandy at last, looking no worse for the wear for its zombie apocalypse attack. No damage. If there was, Joker wouldn't ever let her hear the end of it.

“I believe I know how you feel,” Liara said sympathetically. “Would it be too much to ask for a small break before the debrief?”

“No. I agree. Thirty okay?” she asked, and smiled at both of their nods. “Thanks, guys. Nobody I'd rather be in a zombie plant apocalypse with. Except maybe next time I'd bring more people. Definitely more people.”

“And more guns,” Garrus agreed as they paced up into the airlock for decontamination.

“More guns,” she agreed. “And a flamethrower.”

“Oh, now there's a good idea,” Garrus mused. “Maybe we should get our hands on one.”

Well, it'd been a joke, but... “Who's trouble here? I'm pretty sure it's you,” she said dubiously, laughing as the decontamination beeped a warning and started over again. Yeah. One round was _not_ going to handle this.

“Oh no, Shepard. You're definitely still trouble,” Garrus replied, and then added, almost under his breath. “At least for me.”

Shepard was grateful for her helmet as she felt herself flush, heat creeping up to flood her cheeks. Her poor overused brain just turned itself off, leaving her as flustered and tongue-tied as a dumb teenager. For once, she had nothing clever to say.

_Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Saturday!


	14. Chapter 14

* * *

The room was boring, stain-proof blue carpets and white walls. The table in the middle looked like it'd been pulled out of someone's yard sale, scarred white plastic. Just as bad, the chairs were battered metal with no cushions.

Faith was pretty sure it had been designed to make her uncomfortable so she'd try to move things along quickly.

Unfortunately for them, she was feeling stubborn.

The man sitting across from her had a nice, sympathetic smile and a cardigan. He looked like somebody's uncle who ran a church youth group. She hated him.

“I understand that you're feeling frustrated, Faith. There's a lot of big changes going on in your life right now. I understand not wanting to have any more changes, but you need to realize that everyone is trying to do their best for you. Your father just wants a chance to talk this through with you.”

'Father'.

They could fuck right off with that nonsense.

“How old am I?” she retorted quietly.

“Sixteen,” the court-ordered therapist said, a little uncertainly.

“Okay, so, since this is the state of New Hampshire, I have a right, as a sixteen year old, to decide where I want to live. Good job, we've solved the problem and we can all go home.”

“I'm afraid it isn't always so cut and dried, Faith. Since your father was denied the chance to be a part of your life as you were growing up-”

“I thought you worked for the court.”

“I do,” the therapist said cautiously.

“Then why are you up that man's ass? I said no. I will not speak to him.”

The corners of the therapist's eyes got tight, wrinkles deepening. “You understand if you refuse mediation, Faith, this may continue into the courts. None of us want that, it would disrupt your life.”

“Why am I being punished?”

“You are not being punished, Faith,” the man said sympathetically. “But everyone wants what is best for you. Right now, it's felt you're being pressured to do things that are _not_ in your best interest. We're concerned you're being pushed past your limits. Considering your health issues...”

“I graduated high school eight months ago, I'm eligible for the Academy, I can pass the physicals, and I _will_ be going,” she said icily. She didn't want to hear him pretend to worry about her health. “That man wants me to change my mind and go back to gymnastics so he can try to feed off of me like a leech. Probably wants to steal my money, too.”

“Is that what your mother told you?” the therapist asked quietly.

Offended, she drew herself up, staring down her nose at the irritating man. How dare he imply she didn't make her own decisions? Even mom had tried to change her mind. But obviously that man was telling people a different story.

Hell, she knew he was.

He'd gone to the media several times now, trying to smear mom's name. Every article that came out about her 'worried father' and her 'rigid, demanding military mother' only made her more angry. Mom tried to hide them from her. Faith saw them anyways, every single time.

There were more of them the closer it got to her no longer being able to qualify for the Olympics.

“No. I speak for myself. I make my own decisions. The military is the career I have decided on.”

“A sixteen year old girl shouldn't be worrying about a _career_ , Faith. She should be worrying about enjoying school with her friends, having fun. Maybe thinking about the future, but not to this extent.”

She lifted her chin arrogantly. “I don't like being told what I _should_ do.”

“Yes, I can tell,” the therapist said, keeping his voice mild. “If you're so certain that you know what you want, why not go to the mediation? If your mind is made up, he can't change it, can he? I think getting to talk it out might help you feel better about all of this.”

Stubbornly she set her jaw, arms folding across her chest. Go speak to him? Let him win? Never. She'd sooner go to the fucking court and-

_Go to the court._

“If it goes to court, do I get to speak for myself?” she asked.

There was no way he wouldn't be going to the media about it all.

“Yes, the judge at family court will ask you to speak.”

Faith smiled. It wasn't a nice smile.

“Then I guess we'll go to court.”

* * *

Leaving the comm room, head pounding, Shepard tried to banish Sparatus' nastiness.

Asshole.

Breathing in deep, she exhaled heavily, expelling the Turian councilor's bullshit. Let it wash over her. She couldn't do anything about it, it was part of this job. Wandering towards the bridge, a sway to her steps, she greeted people as she passed, smiling and nodding. Leaning around the back of Joker's chair, she peered out the front, slinging an arm around his chest idly.

He reached up and briefly squeezed her hand before releasing it.

“Commander. Congrats on nearly fucking it up again.”

“Thanks. How long do we have before we reach the Armstrong Nebula?”

“Twenty three hours. You okay?”

“Zombies, Joker. Fucking button,” she sighed, leaning her weight into the chair, knowing doing it to him wouldn't end well.

“Really shoulda known better. You gonna come eat once we get on course?”

“Yeah, I just gotta unruffle some feathers and check in on people. I have plans.” She gave his chest a light pat, pushing up straight.

“All right. Get out of here, Shepard,” Joker said.

“I'm getting, I'm getting,” she laughed, spinning on a heel and wandering off, checking her personal messages idly. One from the kid she'd look at later, a few smattering from old crew, one from an old Academy friend that still had her contacts. She'd finally forced herself to respond to the birthday wishes with bland thanks, so at least those were gone.

Mom had forgotten her birthday, like she always did, so that was nothing new.

She'd sent a message now, though.

Reading it over as she wandered to the medibay, Shepard tried not to make a face. Yeah, mom wasn't thrilled about her Spectre status, she could read between the lines and figure that out. That'd been expected. It didn't bother her much, though the rest of the message did.

The medibay door slid open, and she passed the threshold, still staring at her omni-tool.

“Shepard?” Doctor Chakwas asked.

“A man's worth is no greater than his ambitions,” she quoted absently, and then finally glanced up. Oh. Doctor wasn't alone. Liara and Garrus were staring at her curiously, the Doctor standing next to the former. “Right, post-mission once-over.”

“Just make sure you hydrate well, Liara. The medi-gel did its job well enough, you haven't got a scratch,” Doctor Chakwas said, turning her attention back to the datapad.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Liara said with an incline of her head, pausing when Shepard caught her eye. “Shepard?”

“When I'm done here, can I have a chat with you?” Shepard asked, and then smiled at the nod. “Great.”

“I will be in the lab,” Liara said, passing through the door and disappearing.

“Do you want me to step out?” Shepard asked Garrus, tilting her head. She kept her voice light and easy, but the irritation in her gut was starting to solidify into a proper bad mood. Thanks, mom.

“You were there when I took the hits,” Garrus said.

“Yeah, I was,” Shepard said with a nod, moving to lean against the empty bed.

She averted her gaze down to her omni-tool, bringing up the message again. Absently listening to the doc's comforting, easy voice without really hearing what she was saying, Shepard re-read.

_'...worry that you're over-reaching. You have nothing to prove to anyone, and I wish you would stop throwing yourself into danger without considering your limitations, pumpkin. Ambition is all well and good, but you have to consider who will suffer if you fail.'_

“Limitations,” she muttered irritably under her breath.

That was always the screed from mom, wasn't it? Long speeches about her limitations, and how she had to work within them and not push. Fuck. Shepard hadn't gotten this far by sitting back and making excuses. She got that mom was afraid for her because of her conditions, but they were both soldiers, for fuck's sake. She should understand that risk came with the job.

Life had always been two steps forward one step back for her.

That didn't mean she fucking stopped walking.

“Williams make you that angry?”

Quickly banishing the scowl, Shepard lifted her head, meeting Garrus' eyes. She managed a rueful smile, slowly shaking her head. “I'm more worried she upset Liara. I don't need people pulling rank on my behalf, that's for sure.”

And here she'd thought things were finally going well. Liara did have a tendency to ramble and take over conversations, but it was her specialty and Shepard understood she was just trying to help. Williams snapping at her and telling her to back off had not been productive.

Her inability to get everyone pulling together was starting to feel like a personal failure.

“What, you mean you're capable of speaking for yourself, Shepard?”

The tease helped banish some of her sour mood, and she shook her head lightly. “I'd probably get in less trouble if I didn't.”

It'd been inadvertent, but the instant she said the word it all flooded into her brain and tied her tongue into knots. Clearing her throat awkwardly, she dropped her head. Unbidden, his low voice in her head, that quiet admission that she wasn't sure he'd meant to say out loud.

_'You're definitely still trouble, at least for me.'_

“Everything appears just fine, Garrus. If you notice any ill effects from the atmosphere on Feros, please let me know right away. Decontamination would not have destroyed any airborne particles you inhaled.”

“Killing the thing seemed to get rid of the mind control, doc,” Shepard said.

“That doesn't mean there won't be any ill effects at all. Better to be cautious. Thank you, Garrus.”

“Thanks, Doctor,” he said, taking the dismissal with a nod. “Shepard, could we talk when you find time?”

Trying not to let herself get any more flustered, Shepard managed a simple 'sure'. He nodded and headed out, and she tried not to watch him go. Damn it.

What could he need to talk about?

Hopefully not something that would leave her acting like more of an idiot.

“Commander...”

“Hmm?” she asked, plastering a smile on her face as she wandered over. “I remembered I need to talk to you about the sleep study you wanted to do. I don't think tonight's a good night to start, but what about tomorrow?”

“Why not tonight?” Doctor Chakwas asked, thankfully not asking her any other questions, specifically not 'why are you blushing'.

“I was planning to drink,” she admitted with a half-smile. “I had some stuff brought on board, it seemed like a good night to break it out. Somehow Liara and Tali managed to find me a karaoke machine, so...”

“Oh no,” Doctor Chakwas sighed, and Shepard laughed. “Well, thank you for being thoughtful. Tomorrow will be fine. Liara told me you hit your head. How are you feeling?”

_Traitor!_

“I feel fine, I didn't take my helmet off the whole time, so I just got knocked around a little,” Shepard said, submitting to the pupil-checking anyways. “I was as careful as possible, especially since. You know. Evil plant. I could use an analgesic, though.”

Shepard extended her arm as the syringe came out, far too used to having blood taken. It went in with a sting she barely felt, the vial quickly filling. Doctor Chakwas had a pensive look on her face. Still, she was silent until she turned around to deal with the blood.

“ _Are_ you being careful, Shepard?”

The question was too pointed to be subtle, and too concerned to be offended at. Okay, she hadn't been discreet enough. Shepard sighed through her nose. Dropping the fake smile, she lowered her chin and stared at her hands.

“He's my friend, doc. What am I supposed to do, live in fear? Make him feel like shit over something he can't control? I'm being as careful as I can be without the crew noticing something is off.”

“Feelings are not worth more than your life, Shepard.” Again, neither subtle nor unsympathetic, but still not something she was happy to hear. The lack of the 'his' in front of 'feelings' was pretty damn clear.

“I understand,” she said, rather than argue. There was something to be said for the old adage of 'protesting too much', and friendship was a feeling. Sort of.

It just left the same sour taste in her mouth that mom's words had.

Fucking limitations.

Shepard suffered through the rest of the tests and took her dailies and painkiller like a good girl, rather than risk another mild, too-knowing lecture. When she finished, she ducked into the lab. Immediately Liara rose and turned towards her, beginning to speak as Shepard approached.

“Shepard, I swear I did not intend to speak over you or dominate the conversation. I realize that I am not always the best at personal interaction, and I may have inadvertently-”

“Stop, Liara. Stop,” Shepard said, reaching her and clasping her upper arms in a brief squeeze. Her smile wasn't returned, but she could see the fear fading. “You did absolutely nothing wrong. Williams was just on edge. Everything's fine. I just wanted to make sure you knew that.”

Liara sighed, sagging lightly, her head dropping. She nodded slowly, and then lifted her head. “It was- how are you feeling? It may take some time for the Cipher to clarify, as Shiala said. It is a great deal of information we have been gifted with.”

“Kind of afraid I'm going to start dreaming in Prothean,” Shepard admitted, and then grimaced at Liara's nod. “Oh no, that might happen?”

“I am afraid so, but it may help, Shepard. Your mind will be processing the information, and dreams are a common way for the mind to do so.”

“Great. Just what I need. Well, remember how I told you about how the 'mysterious machine' needed alcohol to operate? I thought we could set it up tonight,” Shepard said with an impish twist of her lips. “I didn't know what you liked to drink, so I just ordered a couple bottles from the Asari section that looked interesting. In case you don't like human alcohol.”

“I- thank you, Shepard, that is thoughtful,” Liara said, surprised. “I have never had the opportunity to try human alcohol.”

“I can only drink the liquor, myself. I've been told human liquor can be an acquired taste. We like it rough,” Shepard laughed, nose wrinkling. “Anyways, I just need you to understand that nothing that happened was your fault.”

“I appreciate that, Shepard. Thank you. I suppose it isn't quite my place, but-” Liara stopped awkwardly, uncertainly.

Shepard laughed, tilting her head to try and catch her lowered stare. “Well, we're friends, aren't we? I don't really care about 'places', Liara, especially not with someone who isn't under Alliance regs.”

“I understand from speaking to the crew that cross-species relationships are still relatively rare for humans-”

“Oh, Liara, no,” Shepard interrupted quickly, lifting both hands. “No, no. I know it didn't look- Garrus and I are friends.”

Liara nodded, taking a step back as her eyes dropped again. “I am sorry. I just wanted to help, and I thought it seemed very obvious- well, perhaps I was mistaken. After all, we have established that I am not particularly adept at dealing with people...”

Oh, well, now Shepard just felt bad.

Sure she could have slicked her way through this, easily. A quick smile and some quicker words would have smoothed this right over. And that would have been cruel to someone who was struggling to deal with being on a ship full of people after spending so much time alone.

“You're not wrong, but unfortunately it's just not going to happen,” Shepard said, rather than lying. “It's not even worth thinking about, really. I really shouldn't indulge it to the extent that I do. It's just hard not to.”

“Because he's Turian?” Liara asked hesitantly.

“It's-” Exactly that, yes. But not for the reasons Liara assumed. “That's a big part of it. And I just really like being his friend, you know? I'm not the kind of person that does relationships for long. I put my career ahead of everything, I always have. I value his friendship more than...anything else.”

“I suppose I understand, Shepard,” Liara said with a nod. “Still, if you want to discuss anything, I would love to help.”

“Thanks, Liara,” Shepard said with a quick smile. “I'm gonna go grab Tali and Wrex set things up. I apologize in advance for what you are going to witness tonight.”

“Should I be concerned?”

“Oh yes,” Shepard said, spinning on a heel with a smirk. “Yes, you should.”

This was gonna be fun.

Garrus stared at the drink in front of him, and then at Tali.

She was watching him with her chin propped up on her hand, leaning in towards him across the empty seat she had put between them. For some reason. He turned his attention back to the drink. The multi-colored layers were slowly separating, making it even more unappealing-looking.

“Thanks,” he finally managed to say.

“I've never mixed a drink before. I put a little of everything in,” she said cheerfully.

“I can tell.”

“Shepard got a few different things. That was nice of her. I don't know if they go together, but I guess we'll find out!” Tali said, lifting her matching drink, straw drooping off the side. “Together, Garrus.”

“Great,” he sighed.

The first sip wasn't the worst thing he'd ever had, but maybe that was because it was separating. Some sort of brandy, almost sweet enough to be palatable, but tainted with whatever it'd been mixed with. There was a hint of menthol, something sickly-fruity.

“What's the matter, Garrus? Not feeling appreciative?” Joker asked him from across the table. He had a large glass in hand of something amber-colored. He'd seen humans drink it before. Beer?

“Oh no, it's terrible,” Tali said, dropping her straw. They both laughed, and she sighed heavily. “I should have done research.”

“I've had worse, Tali. So is this some sort of Alliance tradition? Rec night? This would never happen on a Turian military ship.”

“Yes and no. Depends on the commanding officer. This is a high-pressure sort of cruise, so I think Shepard's just trying to keep things from getting too tense. Don't get me wrong, she's as strict as any career Alliance, in her own way. You cross the line, and she'll let you know.”

He remembered her altercation with Kaidan, the shift in her voice to a very familiar cadence. If he hadn't been stuck under the Mako at the time, he probably would have been snapping to himself. Reminded him of his first CO when he'd done public service.

“Even you?” Tali asked Joker.

He laughed, sarcastically. “Especially me. The closer you are to her, the more she expects out of you, and she expects the most out of herself. It's part of why we get along so well. We've been through the same sort of shit in our service.”

“What do you mean?” Garrus asked curiously.

“People always assuming we can't cut it. Always having to prove ourselves, work harder than anyone in the room. I'm the best at what I do, and I had to fight hard for it. She's pretty good.” The last part was offered over Garrus' head, Joker's attention lifting.

From behind him, Shepard laughed, slow and lazy. “Damned with faint praise, as they say.”

Joker sounded unrepentant. “Hey, it's true. You gonna have a drink?”

“Pirate code. Commander doesn't get to drink until the off-duty men have gotten theirs. But I've got some gin with my name on it once I finish working.”

“Gross. Where the hell did you find a karaoke machine, and why would you inflict that on us?”

“Tali and Liara found it for me,” Shepard chuckled.

“Inflict it? The research I did indicates that it's an enjoyable social activity,” Tali said, puzzled.

“Sure, maybe if people can sing, but the more alcohol there is, the more people who think they can when they _can't_ ,” Joker said dourly.

“Wait, no one told me there was going to be _singing_ ,” Garrus said, finally glancing over his shoulder at Shepard. She was standing with a hand on the back of his chair in a slight lean, something about the casual closeness making him abruptly self-aware all over again. Frustrating, that twisted feeling that made him want to lean closer and pull away all at the same time. She caught his eyes and smiled, tilting her head.

“You needed to talk?”

“You sure you don't want to wait?” he asked, glancing around the mess as more people filtered in. The mood was light. He didn't want to go bringing it down. Besides, if she pushed it off he'd have more time to work on the speech he'd been putting together in his head to convince her.

“No, Garrus, there is nothing I like less than being told that someone needs to talk to me and then stewing over it for ages,” she laughed, stepping back from his chair. “Please, get this off my plate so I can go change out of uniform and relax.”

“Got it,” he said, putting down his glass with very little regret. “It shouldn't take long.”

Rising to his feet, he followed her across the mess, listening to her greeting everyone they passed. Each time with a name. It was another of those little things he kept noticing about her, the way she made small, effortless gestures to include the people around her, make them feel appreciated. Joker was right.

She was a good commanding officer- no, better than good.

Shepard was incredible.

Turning the corner, she paused with a lift of her hand, moving to lean against the wall. “How sensitive is this?”

“Here's fine,” he said, considering his options before finally leaning against the wall himself, a few feet down from her. Close enough to not look strange, but she'd said she felt safest side to side rather than across. “You remember when we were talking about my time in C-Sec, and I mentioned that bastard that got away from me?”

“Doctor Saleon,” she said instantly. Of course she did.

“I mentioned I'd gotten the transponder frequency for what I think is his new ship.” He was asking for too much, asking her to go on his hunch, but... “It's popped up again. I know it's a lot to-”

“Send me the coordinates,” Shepard said instantly. “Of course we'll look into it. Someone like that doesn't deserve to go free. I understand having something like that weighing on your conscience.”

“Thank you, Shepard,” he said with relief. Giving a faint chuckle, he admitted, “I'd worked up a whole speech in my head, you know. To try and convince you.”

“Like I wouldn't have your back, Garrus,” she scoffed. They shared a smile, hers softening at the corners as they stared at each other. “You have mine, don't you?”

He tried to keep his voice easy. “You're damn right I do, ma'am. I hope you'll take me with you. If it's Saleon, I want to be there.”

“Don't even have to ask,” she said with a small laugh, pushing off of the wall. “All right. I need to go talk to Williams, and then get out of uniform.”

“Saving the best for last, huh?”

Shepard sighed, shoulders slumping. “I'm hoping it was just a momentary slip-up, I really am. This is starting to make me feel like a failure.”

It hurt to hear, especially considering how much effort he knew she'd been putting in to try and help everyone get along. “Faith, I know you probably don't want to hear it, but this isn't your failure. You're doing your best, and if she can't look past her own prejudice, you can't control that. Williams will either relax, or she won't.”

“I'll just MAKE everyone get along,” Shepard said in a tense voice, clenching both hands in the air. “Shove some damn acceptance down their throats. Force-feed them understanding.”

“Let me know how that works out for you,” he drawled, and she laughed ruefully.

“I need a drink,” she sighed, reaching up to rub her forehead. “Okay, time to go earn it.”

“Good luck.”

“I'm a little relieved,” Shepard admitted, with an awkward little laugh. Her posture shifted, the hand moving from her forehead to the back of her neck. “When you said we needed to talk I thought it was something else.”

And just like that, the mood went from easy camaraderie back to that fumbling, uneasy place it seemed to keep falling into. Made him feel like a dumb kid. He cleared his throat, averting his eyes from her.

Memories from the mission they'd just finished clamored, remembering the particular low intimacy of her voice, the weight of her body against his side. That brief heat between them, the slight arch of her back towards him, and all the damn thoughts such a tiny motion flooded his stupid brain with- thoughts _without_ the armor in the way.

Impossible thoughts.

“Is- do we need to talk, Shepard?”

“I ah-” She laughed, stuttering. Then the humor faded, and her voice went slow and soft. “No. No, I guess not. There's not...there's not anything to be said.”

He listened to her retreating, and waited until the door had closed in her wake to drop his eyes, staring at the floor.

And then Garrus went to get drunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday! Thanks for reading <3 I'm looking forward to the next chapter. >.>


	15. Chapter 15

“Martini, Commander Shepard?'

The offer came from Tanaka, who seemed to have assigned himself as the tender of their makeshift bar. There was always one. With relief, she approached the mess hall counter strewn with bottles and glassware, resting hip against the counter, crossing her arms over her hoodie.

It was nice to be in some of her rare casual gear.

“How did you guess?” she asked with a laugh.

The older CIC officer grinned at her, tapping his nose. “All I had to do was look at what you ordered. Usually with officers it's whiskey, neat. The single bottle of more expensive gin stood out.”

“Touche. Rocks, no vermouth because I'm allergic to wine, twis-” She stopped herself, and then laughed. Right, no more limes for her. “No twist. No olives or anything.”

“So gin, on the rocks,” he retorted, and they both laughed.

“It still counts as a martini, Tanaka,” she said with a small 'tsk'. “In fact, one could make the argument that it makes it more of a martini. Unadulterated.”

“Sure, ma'am,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

“Insubordination means walking the plank, you know,” she said, smiling as he tapped the bar spoon on the side of her glass and handed it to her. “Thanks. You going to grace us with a song tonight?”

“I could be convinced to perform my award winning rendition of La Vie en Rose,” Tanaka said, smiling at her raised eyebrows. “Quebecois. My mother was Acadian.”

“No way! My grandfather was Acadian. Louisiana Cajun,” Shepard said cheerfully. “So I guess neither of us speak 'right' French.”

“I'll drink to that,” Tanaka said with a chuckle. They clinked glasses, and she made her farewells with a few more little quips.

Shepard made the rounds, keeping an easy smile on her face. Hashing it out with Williams had been irritating and had taken longer than she wanted, but at least she snapped to well enough now that she knew that Shepard would not hesitate to cut her down to size.

But she didn't want grudging acceptance.

Ugh, Garrus was right, she couldn't control people.

This was rec, but for her this was as much work as it ever was. Not that she wasn't going to enjoy a few drinks and get tipsy, but she still had to stay 'on', and that meant behaving herself. It wasn't something she ever minded, riding that line between getting to relax and still being aware of how she was presenting.

Time off was for other people.

“Shepard!”

Tali's wave beckoned her, and she meandered over. When a chair was shoved at her, she laughed, grabbing it in one hand.

“I saved you a seat, Shepard!”

Shepard's smile stiffened as she realized the seat would put her directly between Garrus and Tali. But they were friends, of course she shouldn't have a problem sitting next to him. Even if the table was crowded tonight. Even if there was no space for her to put between them.

There wasn't really a choice.

To refuse would look weird.

She sank down into the seat, practically elbows to elbows with them both. Liara was across from her, drinking something light gold and pretty-looking. Joker and Garrus were in the middle of a discussion; turned towards each other, Garrus hadn't noticed her yet.

“Is that the...”

“The honey-mead, yes. I haven't had it in quite some time,” Liara said with a smile. “It was a nice surprise.”

“Honestly, it was an alcohol import company, I just ordered whatever looked interesting on the list. I wanted everyone to at least be able to have something familiar, even if they didn't chose to enjoy it. I didn't realize it was so pretty!”

“Would you like to try?” Liara offered.

“I'd probably have to take a blood test first,” Shepard said apologetically, grimacing. “Sorry.”

“That must be so inconvenient, Shepard,” Tali said, amusingly slurring.

“Are you drunk already?”

“No. Maybe a little. I made a very big drink. And then I drank it very quickly, because it was...” She paused for effect, and then slurred out slowly, “awwwwful. And then Garrus made another drink! He did a better job.”

She lifted her glass of something extremely blue with a straw. Shepard lifted her own glass, and then glanced between them and laughed.

“Mine looks so boring in comparison.”

“Is that water?” Tali asked, and then leaned in towards it. With a sputter, she jerked back. “That is _not_ water.”

“It's called gin,” Shepard laughed, lifting it for a sip. The sharp, astringent liquor hit her tongue and the back of her sinuses as she swallowed. “It's a liquor made with lots of herbals.”

“It smells terrible, Shepard.”

“It smells like grandma!”

Joker's interjection from the head of the table drew Shepard's attention, and she raised an eyebrow and sipped at it. “Well, your grandma had good taste,” she said calmly. Glancing up and sidelong at Garrus, who was definitely sitting too close for comfort, she tipped her head.   
“Hey,” she said, embarrassed when it came out less casual than she'd intended.

“Shepard.”

“Tali saved me a seat,” she said, trying to discreetly explain herself.

Garrus laughed quietly. “Oh, and here I just thought I needed a shower.”

“Well, I wasn't gonna say anything, but...” she trailed off with a smirk, and then glanced up from him to Joker. “What are you two discussing so intently?”

“Zombies,” Joker said, voice taking on a note of disgust. “Can you believe Turian cinema has _no_ monster movies whatsoever?”

“Um, yes?” Shepard said with a light laugh. “They only make war movies.” There was a beat, and then she added thoughtfully, “and porn.”

Tali immediately started laughing, and Liara turned a knowing look on her that Shepard returned, chuckling faintly. She could _feel_ the other stares on her.

“Uh, what, Commander?” Joker asked in disbelief.

“Porn, a lot of porn, Joker. I know you're intimately familiar with the stuff,” she quipped with a small smirk. She tossed back a bigger swig of her drink. “Extranet's full of it.”

Garrus had gone very still out of the corner of her vision.

“This is more than I _ever_ wanted to know about your personal life,” Joker said.

Liara finally took pity on everyone, because Shepard wasn't about to do it. “The Commander was trying to prepare for her spar with Garrus and couldn't find the proper search terms for videos of Turian hand to hand combat and not...”

“Oh no,” Garrus groaned, shoulders slumping.

“Apparently 'we have a lifelong grudge and we're fighting but oh no now it's sex and we're naughty regulation breakers' is a huge genre of Turian porn, who knew?” Shepard quipped.

“I did,” Garrus sighed, laughter in his voice. “I did, Shepard. You could have just asked me.”

“Never show the enemy your weaknesses, Garrus,” she said, tossing back her drink. Coming up for air, feeling pleasantly amused, she idly rattled her ice cubes.

“You're wrong, by the way.”

“Hmmm?”

With how close they were, she could feel the slight buzz of his voice, making behind her ears tingle. “It's not breaking regulations. Fraternization is allowed on Turian military vessels. Can I have Tanaka make you another drink?”

“Thanks, that'd be great,” she said as casually as she could, feeling like her skin had suddenly gotten two sizes too small. And hot. Definitely hot.

She ignored the thrilling discomfort and started the banter back up, amused by Tali's leaning in against her side, returning the favor. It helped that it put more space between her and Garrus. It was nice that Tali was safe, the Quarian's suit precluding any possibility of a reaction like the one she had to Garrus. She even endured the painfully enthusiastic slap on the back from Wrex when he discovered she'd found a bottle of Ryncol.

In her defense, she'd just picked the only thing on the 'Krogan' section. Apparently Ryncol was a big deal. Liara was trying to convince Joker not to try it; Faith was intrigued, but she knew herself too well to risk it.

And no one was using the karaoke machine.

“I don't understand,” Tali said, glancing around the busy mess, buzzing with conversation and laughter. “Why is no one singing?”

“It's a game of chicken,” Joker said sardonically. “No one wants to be first. Once someone actually sings, _Commander,_ everyone else will.”

“He's right, there's a lot of social pressure when you're the first one,” Shepard laughed, already resigned to the fact. “And the first song traditionally is something old everyone knows. Cliché as possible.”

“If you pull out Free Bird again I'm starting a mutiny,” Joker threatened.

“It was a _joke_ ,” she sighed in exasperation.

“You sang the whole thing!”

“That makes it a better joke,” she said with gleeful amusement. “Okay, fine, fine. I'll go break the ice. Man, I always have to do this.”

“You love being the center of attention,” Joker accused.

She grinned and didn't bother to deny it.

Nudging Tali gently off of her shoulder, Shepard rose to her feet, drink in hand. Edging her way out sideways, she tried not to bump into Garrus and failed, both of them apologizing at the same time. Awkward. Damn it, maybe she should circulate instead. There was no way sitting that close wouldn't get her a lecture from the doc.

Even if she wanted to.

No point denying it.

Heading for the karaoke machine, she brought up her omni-tool and scrolled through her ridiculously expansive library. Not that she didn't already know what she was going to sing. Because Joker had challenged her, and that required torment- it was the principle of the thing.

Grabbing the microphone, it beeped softly as it connected to her omni-tool, the karaoke machine processing the song for proper singing along, downloading the lyrics. The microphone was live when she tested it lightly, and she adjusted the volume absently. It wasn't that big of a room.

“So the Flight Lieutenant has informed me I'm not allowed to sing Free Bird,” she said, and then grinned through the smattering of laughter, letting attention turn in her direction at the front of the room. “Which I accept. So, since he's been so kind as to set limitations on what I may or may not perform, I would like to dedicate this song to him. Joker, I hope this makes you happy.”

She paused, waiting for that to sink in, a few more laughs sounding out. Lifting the microphone again, she pulled her most sincere look, meeting Joker's eyes. “So anyways...” she said.

Shepard took a deep breath, smiled broadly, and finished. “Here's Wonderwall.”

He had no one but himself to blame.

All eyes were on the Commander, which wasn't uncommon.

He wouldn't have enjoyed all the attention, but she basked in it. It was funny to watch. Also impossible to not watch, though at least this time it was everybody staring at her and not just him.

“I hate her so much,” Joker said under his breath.

It briefly pulled Garrus' attention away. Despite his fixation, the song was getting more confusing by the verse. Was that just a human thing? Not actually listening to the lyrics of their music?

“This song makes no sense,” he told Liara, who looked just as puzzled as he did. “Throw what back?”

Liara shook her head helplessly.

“It's nice. Why do you hate it, Joker?” Tali asked, leaning down the table.

“It's the principle of the thing, Tali. It's not about the song, it's about what the song represents,” Joker said, which was even more confusing than the song itself. Maybe he needed another drink.

He wasn't an expert on human singing voices, but Shepard's was crackly and warm, and at least not out of tune with the music. Also, enthusiastic. Very enthusiastic. If he'd been more sober the once-heard phrase 'lighting up the room' would have been discarded the instant he thought it, but he'd been drinking and it had stuck itself there.

He understood it now.

She lit up the room.

“What does the song represent?” Tali said, waving off his wordless offer towards her glass. When he made the same to Liara, she tipped her head and offered the empty one over.

“The song represents pissing me off,” Joker said.

Tali gave a faint 'hmm'. “That doesn't make sense.”

Leaving the table, Garrus carefully navigated his way to the bar as the song ended. The applause was smattered with boos, which from Joker's reaction he had a feeling the Commander had done on purpose. She was laughing, and when his eyes inevitably got dragged back to her, she was bowing dramatically as someone else chose a song. On his way back to the bar, his eyes slid past the table.

Kaidan had taken his seat.

Well, they were in short supply, and he didn't have anything to hold against the guy, really. Especially not when Shepard skipped the table and headed in his direction instead. Definitely no hard feelings.

At least not on his end.

Kaidan might be another story.

“I didn't know the point of performing was to get booed, Shepard,” he said as she hitched her hip against the counter a few feet down from him, grabbing a bottle and examining it. There wasn't much left in it.

“I shoulda bought two bottles,” she sighed to herself, setting it aside and reaching for something else, a bottle of thin amber liquor. “The point of performing, my dear Turian pal, was to get other people to perform. Nothing more, nothing less. I picked a boo-worthy song on purpose.”

“And here Joker thought it was to annoy him.”

“You ever heard the saying two birds one stone?”

What? Tipsy amusement rose, and he chuckled helplessly. “Shepard, I don't know what the hell half you people say is, and even less of what you sing.”

“I'm saying I was being _efficient_ ,” she quipped, swirling the bottle she was holding lightly.

“What are you drinking?”

Things between them were so much easier like this, with space so he didn't feel like he had to hold his breath, and with no one else eavesdropping and judging. And without worrying about if he was being too damn obvious all the time.

It felt good to just be around her without overthinking.

The part of his brain that was insisting that being drunk around Shepard was a terrible idea could wait for tomorrow.

“This is a rye whiskey,” Shepard said, tipping a rather generous portion into her own glass, before offering it over.

“Ah, I don't know about that, Shepard,” he said uncertainly.

It seemed they'd been right about the karaoke, because the instant someone finished, someone else was at it. He wasn't paying any attention to the music this time, but the beat was insistent enough that he could feel it through his soles. He could see Shepard was feeling it, there was a bare nod of her head as she spoke.

“Protein free, triple-distilled. Allergen free guaranteed unless you're allergic to alcohol. Otherwise I wouldn't be drinking it,” Shepard said with a chuckle. “You'll notice I'm not touching the beer. Or the wine. You'll have to get a proper glass, though, or someone might be offended. Also, no chugging, you have to _taste_ it.”

“Well, I wouldn't want to offend anyone with my lack of proper glassware,” he said, turning to find something that looked approximately like hers. “What's the percentage?”

“Fifty,” she said, tipping what suddenly looked like far too much in his glass.

He scoffed faintly. “Listen, I like a hard drink as much as the next guy, but there's a certain point where you're not drinking it for the _taste_. Let's not pretend otherwise. Nobody's drinking horosk because they like the way it hits their palate.”

“Plebian,” Shepard sniffed.

He leaned back from her and stared down. “Excuse me?”

Lifting an eyebrow in the expressive way humans had, Shepard lifted the glass and took a sip. A very small one. Lowering her glass, she repeated, carefully enunciating. “Plebian.”

“Challenge accepted,” he said, glancing down at the glass. “This better not be like when we used to give Ryncol to the recruits. I don't want to wake up in the bathroom.”

He took a small sip of the liquor, unsurprised to find it completely lacking in any sweetness, sharp and harsh. The first burn went straight down the throat, leaving a trail of warmth behind it. That wasn't half bad.

The flavor was surprisingly complex, if strange to his tongue, but after the first surprised impression the aftertaste wasn't half bad. Smoky and spicy in a way he was unfamiliar with. Lifting the glass, he tilted his head to the side.

“Huh.”

“I guess some things are universal. We used to give moonshine- that's basically like unregulated liquor, upwards of seventy five percent- to the new guys. The military academy I went to was in the middle of nowhere, someone always knew someone that was making moonshine in the hills,” she said. Her dark eyes were faraway, and her nostalgic smile was soft and wistful. “It was terrible.”

“You started at seventeen, right?” he asked, wanting to keep that expression there.

“Yeah,” she said, glancing down into her drink with a small laugh. “What about you? I don't think I know when Turian service starts.”

“Fifteen,” he said, chuckling as her eyes widened. “Is that so odd?”

“I was considered 'too early' at seventeen,” Shepard explained, lifting her glass again.

“I'm surprised you didn't turn that into another joke about the Turian military obsession,” he said, smiling at her laugh. The second sip of the whiskey went down easier than the first.

“Ah, I tease you enough, Garrus.”

Unfortunately, relaxed as he was now, the alcohol decided to do the talking. “I don't know, I think I can take whatever you've got for me, Shepard.”

“Mmh, pretty sure that's my line,” she said, almost under her breath.

They both froze.

When she burst into embarrassed laughter, he couldn't relax. It was worse than the whiskey, a spreading warmth that was fighting to send his mind in directions it should _not_ be going, yet again. It felt like every time was worse. Or better.

It felt like both at the same time.

“Damn it, Shepard,” he muttered.

“I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to,” she said, the words stuttering over her helpless laughter, a hand reaching up to clutch her chest.

Despite his own frustration, her laughter was just too contagious, and finally he closed his eyes and leaned back, bumping into the cabinet as he chuckled weakly.

When she exhaled in a long sigh, slumping, he finally hazarded another look at her. Cheeks bright red, head shaking, there was at least still a smile on her face as she stared at the floor. Reaching up, she tucked her hair behind her ear, smile fading at the corners.

“I should make the rounds again, make sure everyone is doing all right. What are the chances I can convince you to sing tonight?”

“Me?” he asked, disbelieving. “Absolutely nil, Shepard.”

“Oh, come on,” she protested. “What do I have to do, turn it into a challenge?”

“What, so Joker can put a book on that, too?”

Shepard stiffened, turning to stare at him. “He _what_?”

“Great, now he's going to be pissed at me,” Garrus sighed, tossing back the rest of the whiskey. It was even easier that time. That should probably be worrying.

“Okay, okay. But Garrus,” Shepard said, turning to face him with an intent stare, bottle in one hand, glass in the other. “Who did he bet on? _That's_ the part that matters.”

“I assumed you,” he said, letting her refill his glass again after hers. Hindsight brought a brief surge of panic. “Shepard. Cross-contamination.”

She froze as well, glancing between their glasses and the bottle. “I poured it once into a clean glass, and the second time after mine. So I just can't touch it again.” Carefully she put the bottle down, and then let out a sigh. Reaching for a disposable towel, she carefully wiped the rim of the bottle. “Usually I'm so careful. Thanks, Garrus.”

“Hey, I've got you,” he said easily.

Shepard got an odd look on her face, but it faded into a lopsided, sly little smile as she shook her head and pushed off the counter. “Yeah, you sure do.”

For the first time since all of this mess had begun, as she walked away she gave him one of those little punches to the shoulder- without armor in the way. As she walked past him to the nearest group of chatting people, his eyes tracked her. The woman was going to be the death of him.

Or he was going to be the death of her.

Shepard should not have had that last drink.

Mixing whiskey and gin had been a stupid idea in the first place, but that last one had definitely been a bridge too further. Farther. A bridge too...whatever. Still, she was good at the facade, and she kept it up as she surveyed the room, finding a few people who were in dire need of being sent to sleep it off, and making sure they got there. Anand was sober, and good about running bottles of water for Shepard, which was one more weight off her mind.

She'd held back some bottles for everyone on duty, and after a quick check to make sure they were still there she returned to the party. It was the time of the night where the singing was getting excellent (IE terrible). It was nice. People were having a good time, which made her feel less guilty about how stressful everything had been, and would continue to be.

When she returned, her attention was drawn immediately by Wrex, mostly because he was bigger than everyone else.

“Wrex!” she called out as she approached him.

He glanced up and over at her, acknowledging her approach. “Shepard.”

“I want a chest bump,” she said, gesturing. “Okay, just stand right there, facing me.”

“I don't know what the hell you're talking about.”

“It doesn't matter. Human friendship ritual,” she said firmly, planting her feet. “Just hold still.”

“Okay,” he said with a shrug.

She managed to get decent height as she ran in, jumping up and slamming her chest into his. Unfortunately, it might have been a little too enthusiastic, because instead of a proper bounce-back and land, as one would expect when sober, she was thrown back onto her back. Landing on the ground, hard, on her shoulder blades, she wheezed for a second.

And then she burst into laughter.

“Chest bump!” she declared breathlessly through her laughter, lifting both hands over her head, fisted in victory.

Wrex peered down at her, finally giving a small snort. “Humans are weird. You all right down there, Shepard?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she agreed, hopping to her feet as lithely as she could without wobbling. Nobody knew she was drunk. It was important to stay that way. “Hey, you wanna learn to arm wrestle? Or do you already know how?”

“Shepard,” Wrex said, deep voice rasping with just a bit of disapproval. “Of course I know how to arm wrestle.”

“Excellent, let's do it,” she said, turning to survey the big table. It was less crowded than it had been. For some reason Garrus was sitting next to Kaidan, which made her eyes narrow slightly. Kaidan better not be giving him any trouble.

Stomping in that direction, she remembered partway there that she should be cool.

Right, be cool.

Slowing, she wandered over more sedately and leaned against the back of Tali's chair. And eavesdropped, of course. Joker and Kaidan seemed to be in the midst of an argument. Returning Tali's silent greeting, she flashed her a wink.

“...doesn't make any sense at all. In fact, it's famous for not making sense,” Kaidan said.

“It makes perfect sense! You're just not listening,” Joker argued, and then gestured to her. “Shepard, tell him.”

“Shepard...” Kaidan blinked and glanced over.

“Okay, what am I telling?” she asked, resting her chin on her hand, elbow leaning against the chair.

“When he says he'd do anything for love but he won't do that, the that is in reference to a specific thing, not just a lyric that doesn't make sense,” Joker insisted.

“No, it doesn't! If you listen to the song-” Kaidan said.

“Cheating,” Shepard said instantly. “He would do anything for love, but not cheat. And I think lying was one of them, too.”

“Thank you!” Joker said, exasperated.

“But even so, that doesn't quite make sense,” Liara said quietly. “Of course someone would not cheat on their partner out of love for them. So again, the statement is illogical.”

“Thank _you_ ,” Kaidan said, gesturing to Liara.

“See, even you all think human music doesn't make sense,” Garrus said, leaning back in his seat, crossing his arms.

Wrex settled down heavily across from Tali, who began to rise. Shepard pushed up, hastening, “Tali, don't get up on my account. I'll find a chair somewhere.”

“Oh, no! I wanted to go talk to Amina and Tucks,” Tali said, a little too quick. “And find another drink, Shepard. Don't worry. Sit down.”

“Uh, I can-”

“Sit down,” Tali said, pulling out the chair.

Next to Garrus again.

Tali was not nearly so subtle as she probably thought she was. Sighing, Shepard succombed before she went and made it weird, plopping down into the chair. At least Wrex was across from her now. She stared him down, rather than acknowledging the renewed close-quarters to her right.

“Wrex.”

He slammed his elbow down on the table, expectantly.

“Shepard.”

Pushing up the sleeve of her sweatshirt, she leaned over the table to meet his arm, planting her own elbow. His hand was practically twice the size of hers as they clasped.

“Oh no way,” Joker said.

“Commander, do you really think that's a good idea?” Kaidan asked.

“Ten on Wrex,” Garrus said in a slow, amused drawl.

“Oh fuck you, Vakarian!”

“Yeah, not taking that bet,” Joker muttered.

Shepard pretended she didn't hear them, bracing herself as she clutched Wrex's hand. Tensing, focused, she gave him a short, sharp nod. He counted down, and then, as she was bracing herself, slammed her knuckles into the table in one swift movement.

It stung, but less than her pride as she cursed and flexed her fingers, extending her elbow carefully as he released her. Damn it. At least he could have given her a _second_ to fight back.

“Okay, okay, again,” she demanded, squaring up once more.

“Not going to change anything, but sure,” Wrex said.

Despite her best efforts (including using both hands, and other methods of completely cheating), she didn't get more than a few seconds reprieve before she lost the next three times. Finally, knuckles bruised, she gave up with a scoff and settled back into her seat.

“I'm gonna train,” she promised Wrex sourly, scooting in her chair. “Train, and train, until I can beat you.”

“Okay,” he said simply, not bothering to hide his amusement. “You do that, Shepard.”

As the guys found something new to argue over, she just sank into listening to the music. The drunken, drunken music. It was nice; felt like home. It made everything a little easier.

When she shifted to rest her elbow on the table to prop up her head, her knee bumped into something. It took a good thirty seconds of her tapping her foot in time to the beat and a sidelong look from Garrus before she realized it was his leg she was leaning against. The sudden burst of nervousness brought a warmth to her cheeks that she hoped she could blame on alcohol.

He didn't pull away.

Feeling as awkward as a teenager trying to play footsie with their crush, Shepard didn't pull away either, fingers curling under her chin as she stared blindly across the room. Just listening to the music. That was all. Listening to the music and bickering and ignoring the frequent glances Kaidan sent in her direction.

The microphone got handed off, and Shepard found out Tanaka had been right; he could sing a mean rendition of La Vie en Rose. She couldn't recall ever hearing it in her childhood, but even so there was something nostalgic about the slow, lilting melody. It had her softly humming under her breath.

The argument changed directions, and Garrus laughed and snapped something across the way at Wrex, who chuckled his dark, deep chuckle. She just let the sound enfold her, a softly dreamy moment. She couldn't quite bring herself to look at Garrus, and out of the corner of her vision she noticed he wasn't looking at her either. But they were still touching.

And then he shifted in his seat, picking up his drink with his far hand, as he leaned back. Something nudged against the outside of her thigh, right above her knee. Barely a touch. Easily overlooked. Practically nothing.

Like a complete fool, she was tingling from head to toe.

As subtly as she could, Shepard let her hand slide off of the table and drop below it. Effervescent, breathless, her bruised knuckles brushed against the back of his hand, and then down to his fingers. A casual, 'accidental' touch. Just like it was an accident when his hand shifted and her finger nudged between his knuckles.

Off-balance in a way she hadn't _ever_ been, not even as a kid with her first crush, Shepard sat there with her mind screaming desperately at her to keep her cool. It wasn't working, and oh god was she a fucking mess, but at least no one could tell. Hopefully.

Stomach in knots, she sat there hearing nothing, and saying nothing, every damn sense hyper-focused on the feeling of his fingers lacing between hers.

They were holding hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe hand touching ^_^


	16. Chapter 16

Well, she might not be able to beat Wrex at arm wrestling, but at least she kicked his ass in the kill count.

All in all it had been a gruelling, but successful mission she was rather proud of. Injuries and all. When she staggered through the airlock, ignoring Kaidan's worried looks, she headed straight for the comm room without pausing.

“Go see the doc for your post-mission and then get some rest,” she ordered them both. “You did good work.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Kaidan said. “Thanks for bringing me.”

She paused at the CIC, letting Wrex push past them with a staggering clap on her arm. She smiled at him and nodded, and then turned back to Kaidan. She met his eyes, voice firm. “I've never had a problem with how you fight, Alenko. You're a good soldier.”

“Thank you, Shepard. But...about that last fight...”

Shepard kept her smile, but narrowed her eyes minutely. “We all get sloppy when we're tired. I'll be fine.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he nodded and turned around, much to her relief.

She couldn't find fault with him today, and she'd like to keep it that way.

Doing her best not to limp, she headed into the comm room, cursing the stupid dumb luck that had gotten her hit so badly. She'd covered up the missing piece of her calf so no one would be staring at it, and at least the medi-gel had cauterized and deadened the pain, but she was in need of some restructuring. The doc could scold her.

No one else had the right.

Not that there was any reason to scold her, mistakes happened.

“Commander?” Joker's voice called out.

“Let me transfer this data, and then I want you to immediately head to those coordinates I gave you,” she said, noting that he sounded much better. “Had an IV?”

“Nah, rehydrated the old-fashioned way. Unlike Amina, she's still recovering even after a stint in medibay. Remind me to never try Ryncol.”

“Never try Ryncol,” she said, just to be an ass.

“You ever thought of quitting the Alliance to be a comedian, Shepard?”

“Yeah, sure, the day you quit flying to be a long distance runner.”

“Wow. Vicious. That's pretty rich from someone who's going to end up living in a giant plastic bubble.”

She linked her omni-tool to the console, sending the data they'd stolen from the Geth control nodes off to Alliance control. While she was there, she sent the manifest they'd taken from the pirate base as well. Two birds, one-

Damn it, she did not need to be thinking about last night right now.

Idiot.

“Shepard? Come on, that wasn't a good insult, even from me.”

“Sorry, just sending this data off. Okay, we're good to go, Joker. Have Pressley set course for the coords.”

“You sure? You just spent over eight hours fighting Geth, Commander.”

“I can rest while we're in transit, I'm fine. Joker, as an Alliance commander, I cannot condone gambling on my vessel, but if such a thing were to happen, who would you be betting on? I'm asking for a friend.”

“Well, definitely not Lieutenant Alenko.”

“Joker,” she protested. “Just tell me!”

“Come on, Commander. You already know the answer.”

Shepard smiled to herself, giving a small shake of her head as she left the comm room. She paused briefly at the CIC as Pressley set course for what might possibly be Saleon's ship. Hopefully it was. She knew how much unfinished business could weigh on someone's mind.

Shepard headed down, grabbing a bar so she could delay until Wrex and Kaidan had left the doctor's. The mess was quiet, and for once she actually got what Tali meant about the ship being too quiet. The Normandy was very different than the ships she'd been on as a kid. Quiet and smooth. She still didn't agree that they needed more crew, but...

There was something to be said for the noisiness of the older ships.

You could _feel_ them working.

Once the medibay seemed clear she headed for it, chewing on her dull vanilla bar. When the door slid open, Doctor Chakwas was waiting for her, the empty table patted lightly. Shepard crossed the floor, pulling herself up.

“Kaidan said you'd been injured.”

“I hid it as best I could, but I was too tired to not limp,” she said with a sigh, lifting her leg.

Doctor Chakwas frowned, moving in to strip the makeshift wrapping she'd wound around her leg. It looked a lot better now that it was cauterized, but the edges of the fingertip deep gouge through the back of her calf was angrily red and still pretty deep.

“I lost a little muscle, but not as bad as that time on Akuze.”

“Well, this wasn't acid, Shepard,” the doctor said, and then sighed. “Armor off. It's going to scar, but we can work on scar reduction later if you wish.”

“Ah, I'll keep it,” she dismissed, hopping back down to remove her armored leggings, the slim-fitting leggings underneath them, stripping off her gloves as well. “Doesn't seem to be much point in worrying about it right now.”

Just in her armored top and panties, she hopped back onto the bed, ignoring the twinge from her leg. No need to go hobbling around. She wasn't trying to make anyone feel bad for her or anything.

“I suppose you have bigger issues in mind,” the doctor agreed. “Extend your foot for me? Point your toes.” She ran the scanner down the length of the injured leg.

Shepard did as she was told, slowly, wincing at the full extension.

“You strained the ligaments in your ankle as well, Shepard. And your knee is swollen.”

“I guess I was more focused on the hole in my leg,” she lied, shrugging her shoulders. “I must have fallen weird. It should be fine, right?”

“With rest and some anti-inflammatories, medi-gel should take care of the actual damage,” Doctor Chakwas said, and then began the task of un-cauterizing her wound to work on repairing the damage. It'd take time for the muscle to repair, but at least Shepard could be functional and have the wound covered by a temporary skin-patch that'd hide the hole while it did.

She wouldn't be stuck with a divot in her leg.

Had to hand it to the doc- she was fast. What would have taken at least a half hour in the hospital was over in fifteen, and while her leg felt weird, it didn't hurt or feel like it was going to collapse under her. She tested it gingerly, carefully pushing up onto the ball of her foot two or three times. Her calf strained, but didn't buckle.

Good enough.

“Great, thanks. I should go.”

“One moment, Shepard,” the doctor said, turning towards the cabinets and opening up the 'Commander Shepard's hoard of stupid health bullshit' door. “How long have you had that contact allergy reaction? Have you had any other symptoms?”

Blinking, she glanced down at her bare legs, squinting at them. Nope. She lifted a hand to feel her face, and then stopped at a slight sting of pain. Dropping her hand, she stared at it. The skin of her fingers was indeed showing signs of one of her more annoying contact reactions. Not the itchy hives, but the one that dried out the skin until it cracked and flaked. And bled.

How had she not noticed that?

_'You were ignoring it,'_ her brain told her.

As was becoming a new and more frequent occurrence, Shepard ignored her brain. Instead, she shrugged her shoulders at the doc, flashing a winning smile. “No idea. It wasn't bothering me. No other symptoms.”

“And it's only on the one hand,” the doctor murmured worriedly. “You wore your gloves the entire time you were out?”

“No, I took them off a couple times, though I did keep my helmet on,” Shepard lied with an easy smile. “Must have touched something weird. I guess decontamination would make it impossible to tell what, huh?”

“I'm afraid that's likely. It's odd that it's spread to the backs of the fingers and hand as well- the pattern... Well, please be aware of what you're touching with ungloved hands in the future so that if the reaction is replicated we can identify it,” the doctor said, and sent her to the handwash station anyways.

Dutifully Shepard washed her hands, and rubbed the steroid cream into her hand, smiling the whole time. Ship-shape and as whole as she was going to get, she took her dailies and left. Rather than do rounds on the ship, as she generally did after a mission, she headed to her quarters instead.

Yes, she should have taken her gear down to the loadout locker, but that would require going to the garage. She was not going to the garage. Instead, Shepard left her things next to the door. Methodically she checked the safeties on her weaponry, one by one.

The smile was long gone.

Once her weapons were as secure as it got on the floor, she stripped down, and showered. Regulation length. No shorter, no longer. Her mental sense of time was well-tuned, always had been. She'd had an instructor in Academy that would time their showers.

Asshole.

Shepard dressed, avoiding her face in the mirror, and then went to slump on the bed, face-first. Legs dangling off the edge, she buried her face into the bed and breathed in and out, flushing with the heat of it. And then she screamed.

And screamed.

Muffled by the bed, she screamed until she exhausted herself and her throat hurt. The shock finally snapped, and her brain came back to functionality as she collapsed, mattress damp as her face as she finally pulled herself out with a gasp. Reaching up with her not-fucked hand, she wiped her cheeks, breathing in and out slowly.

The tears still threatened, but she swallowed them back with deep breaths, carefully pushing herself up and turning over, scooting into a sitting position. Closing her eyes, she fought for control. One breath. Two. Three.

Take stock.

“You're fucked,” she said hoarsely, lifting a hand to wipe her eyes again, lashes wet.

Forcing her eyes, she finally made herself face it. Staring down at the cracked skin of her hand, she spread her fingers, wincing as the skin between them split. Rash between the pinkie and ring finger. Rash between the index and middle finger- but not between the middle and ring fingers.

Well, he only had three fingers.

Her omni-tool beeped at her. They must be past the mass relay. Lifting it, she flopped onto her back on the bed and stared at the incoming call. The kid.

She was tempted to ignore it, but she hadn't responded to the last few messages yet and she felt bad about it. Picking up the call, she smiled as best she could.

“Hey, sorry kiddo. Been busy out saving the universe, you know.”

There was a pause on the other side, a soft rustling noise as the hologram shifted wildly, finally showing a very serious face. “Why're you crying?” Emi asked.

Damn it. _Kids_. “Allergies it's kinda my thing. I'm okay. How are you?”

“I got my arm.” It was lifted, and held way too close to the omni-tool, so Shepard couldn't really see a thing. “But they won't let me leave.”

“Well, yeah. They gotta make sure your body doesn't reject it, and you've got to do lots of PT. But you'll be good in no time,” Shepard said easily. “They moving you to the Children's Ward?”

“Yeah, I don't like it,” Emi said, the blur dropping to show a scowling face. “There's a girl named Beth and I hate her. She said I was lying about knowing you even though I showed her the pictures you sent. Are you gonna come and see me?”

“Do you want me to come see you so you can see me, or so you can defeat your arch-nemesis?” Shepard asked, highly amused.

Emi shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Fair. Sometimes you remind me way too much of me as a kid, you know that?” Shepard asked with amused exasperation. “I don't know, kiddo. But the instant I'm heading back to Citadel, you'll be the first to know. How are things going with Social Services?”

“Fatima said I should meet some people,” Emi said dubiously. “But I told her you put in an application and I don't want to meet anyone else.”

“Okay, but,” Shepard sighed, trying to find a way to phrase it. A way that wasn't 'I will not be adopting you, sorry'. “You still need to find a foster family that's a good fit, Emi, you can't refuse to meet _everyone_. Otherwise you'll have to go to the home, and-”

“I'll run away,” Emi said, predictably.

“Okay, well, I'm doing everything I can to help you, kiddo, and you're making it harder. So here's the deal. You have to find a foster family. Those are orders.”

“Orders?”

“If you want to be on my ship, you have to follow my orders. I'm your Commander, and I say you have to. That's how it works. When you're on a ship, you follow orders, because that's how everyone stays safe. Do you understand? You have to say 'yes, ma'am'.”

Emi scowled, but after a few seconds finally replied, “...yes, ma'am.”

“There we go. Soldier, your mission is to find a good foster family that you think you can get along with. If you want to ship out one day, you've gotta snap to. You've gotta finish all your schooling up to year twelve. That means you have to find somewhere to live and eat so you don't have to worry about those things.”

Emi made a face, but when Shepard raised an eyebrow, she finally sighed. “Yes, ma'am. I already finished three years before, though.”

“Did you?”

“Yeah, before my mom left.”

Shepard stalled, feeling her own worries and frustrations fading. Shit. She'd thought Emi's parents had died- soldiers or mercs or something. Very carefully, she asked, “your mom left, kiddo?”

“She met a guy. She always met a guy. I listened. He said she had to get rid of me if she wanted to go to Omega with him to get rich. So they just left when I was at school.” Emi said it with a shrug and no change in expression, as if it was an everyday thing.

Shepard got it.

“I see. Well, she made the wrong choice,” Shepard said quietly. “You were brave to get along by yourself. But now you don't have to, okay? A soldier's never alone. You've always got someone at your back. That's me.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Emi said with a faint smile.

“I'll send you more cool pictures. Let's make Beth get _so_ jealous.”

This time Emi's smile was genuine.

Garrus wasn't sure if he was relieved or frustrated that Shepard was avoiding him.

It was probably both.

He knew they needed to talk. He also knew neither of them wanted to. After she'd left the mess without a word passing between them, he'd gone to sleep, but hadn't. Instead he'd spent drunken hours staring blankly at nothing and trying to figure out a way to make it _work_. There had been complicated, grandiose plans that he didn't remember, self-sacrificing ideas that he knew he'd never follow through on, and when he woke, the only thing that was left behind was the knowledge that it wouldn't.

It couldn't work.

But damn if it hadn't felt good for those few hours he'd ignored that and pretended it could.

It was just so easy. Having Shepard's back, fighting with her, laughing with her, flirting- all of it. It was effortless, and that made it more dangerous.

Right now he needed to focus. They were almost at their destination, and it was finally time to set things right. The impatient anger that rose every time he thought about how C-Sec had just let that bastard Saleon go had only gotten worse over time. Who knew how many more people he'd hurt?

How many people had suffered, because of what he-

“Garrus, can I have a minute?”

Attention snapping back to reality, Garrus blinked and glanced away from the locker he'd been glaring into blindly. His eyes met Kaidan's. His stance was easy, arms folded, nothing aggressive or angry in his face.

“Sure, provided you're not going to tell me off for going on another mission. She _did_ leave me behind last time.”

“No, I- I understand why you need to go. I'm not-” Briefly Kaidan looked frustrated, and then he shook his head, raspy voice low. “I'm worried about the Commander.”

That was a surprise. “Worried? Why?”

Kaidan sighed, reaching up to rub his temple. “Listen. I've been fighting with her since Eden Prime. Shepard's a good soldier- the best, really.”

“I'd say I agree there,” Garrus said, still cautious.

“Yeah. And I get why I was benched. I get it, okay? But Shepard's...she's not fighting the same as she did before. She's taking unnecessary risks, she's running ahead when she should be surveying the situation- she got pretty damn badly injured, Garrus, and she tried to hide it. Shepard's a master tactician, and she's not acting like one.”

“You're saying she's being reckless,” Garrus said, that knowledge settling uneasily. Shit. “You sure you just didn't see her on a bad day?”

Kaidan shrugged, arms still folded. “Look at Noveria. She nearly died and she went running right back into danger. You were there. Was she really ready for that fight? You were there on Noveria, and Feros, so I guess you'd have to tell me. Is Shepard being reckless? Because it sure as hell looks like it to me.”

Rather than answer that, because he didn't like the answer, Garrus shook his head. “If you're feeling this way, why don't you go to Shepard yourself?”

“You really think she's gonna listen to me right now?”

“So you want me to talk to her,” he surmised. “Want me to take the hit- because you know she won't like hearing it.”

“No. I just want you to watch her back out there,” Kaidan said, shaking his head slowly. “If I'm right, which I think I am, maybe putting it in your head will help you see it too. I guess I'm just counting on you caring about whether Shepard lives or dies.”

Guilt rose, a sudden sick wave of it that he fought to keep out of his voice. It wouldn't have fooled a Turian, but maybe it was enough for a Human. “I do care.”

“Good. Good luck out there.” Kaidan nodded and stepped back, walking away without another word.

It stuck in his mind, and he couldn't shake it off.

When they met up to head off to the mission, Shepard was the same as ever. Chatting easily with them, teasing Tali about her alcohol tolerance as they geared up. Shepard met them already armed and armored. Her armor was damaged.

When he pointed it out, she laughed it off.

As they began to make for the bridge, the conversation shifted.

“Shepard, I was hoping I could speak to you about that information you mentioned. From the Geth control nodes? The data you sent to Alliance control.”

“Oh yeah, of course, Tali,” Shepard said easily.

He kept staring at the rip in her armor, the edges scorched. She seemed to be walking fine. He knew she had other armor, why wasn't she wearing it?

“I would like a copy.”

“Oh! To take back to the Fleet, right?” Shepard said, snapping her gloved fingers.

“Yes, those files have information that could be vital to our efforts to understand the Geth. It could be the key to helping us regain our homeland!” Tali said excitedly.

“I hadn't even thought of that. If that's true, it'd be amazing. But- it's encrypted, Tali. Do you know how to unscramble it? Because that would have been nice to know before I sent it off,” Shepard said as they trooped into the elevator. Her voice was pensive, arms folding over her chest.

“Oh, no. We will need to study it. It could take years,” Tali acknowledged. “But it will give us new insight into how the Geth have changed and evolved over the past centuries.”

“I mean, yes, absolutely. Anything I can do to help you and the Fleet,” Shepard acknowledged with a firm nod.

“Thank you, Shepard. This is...a debt I can never repay,” Tali said, more quietly.

“Hey. Not even a little. You're here with me, and that's what matters. As soon as we get back, use the comm room and send the copy I give you to someone you trust back in the Fleet.”

“I- if you think that is best, Shepard,” Tali said.

“You can never be too careful with something this important,” Shepard said with a nod.

“That's true,” Tali said, and let out a long sigh. “This is such a weight off me.”

They trooped out of the elevator, and he fell in behind them both. His eyes kept being drawn back to the damage in her armor, the suit underneath visible when she moved. You can never be too careful with something important?

So was she being a hypocrite, or did she think her life wasn't important?

Damn it, Kaidan.

He wouldn't be able to get that out of his head now- and he didn't. When they headed at last into the Fedele's cargo bay, he was focused entirely on her. The banter washed past him without commentary, the kills got by him, but he had her back the whole time.

He wasn't going to let her get injured.

The twisted genetic experiments they took down made his anger all the more sharp. It got worse the further they fought. Anger at Saleon and with C-Sec's failure, anger with Shepard for being so careless with her own life, and anger...

With himself.

He was _furious_ with himself for being so damned reckless with Shepard's life.

Garrus couldn't lie to himself about it any more.

When they finally found the bastard he had the nerve to thank Shepard for 'saving' him from the monsters he'd created, and what remained of Garrus' self-control snapped. The gun came up almost of its own volition as he surged in, attempting to push past Shepard. Except she wouldn't let him, she was too damn fast.

Shepard put herself between him and Saleon.

In danger. Again.

“It's _him_ ,” he insisted. I don't need to question him, I know it's him. He's not getting away this time.”

“Calm _down_ ,” she snapped, moving in the way again as he tried to aim past her shoulder. “Damn it, Garrus!”

“Get out of the way!”

“Please, please don't let him do this to me,” the bastard sniveled.

“No. We're doing this the right way, Garrus. We're taking him in, turning him over to the military,” Shepard snapped at him.

“The hell we are!” he retorted.

“Garrus,” she said, reaching out and pressing a hand to his chest. Stepping in until his gun pressed up against her shoulder, she insisted, “sometimes the right thing is the hardest thing to do, but that doesn't mean we stop trying.”

And then the bastard she was protecting shot her in the back.

He heard the shot impact against her armor and instincts took over. Grabbing her by the arm, he pulled her out of the way as she staggered, his gun already coming back up. It should have taken more than one shot, it should have been a fight worth having.

It wasn't.

Saleon just fell, dead, as Shepard staggered to the side.

The fight wasn't over. He was lowering his gun when Shepard staggered back to balance, turning and grabbing him by the shoulder. Switching the safety on his gun, he slung it on his back, ignoring her as she shoved him around to face her. He could feel her glaring up at him, despite the helmet.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” she demanded angrily.

“What the fuck is wrong with ME?” Garrus asked in disbelief. “What the fuck is wrong with YOU?”

“You two...” Tali said uncertainly, but neither of them was paying attention to her.

“Me?!” she shouted back, voice rising. “You're supposed to be at my back! You're supposed to be fucking following orders, Garrus! What the hell was that about?”

He spread his hands helplessly, rocking back a step as she shoved him again. The anger in his voice was only half aimed at her, but the disgust was all for himself. “I know where I'm supposed to be, Shepard! I know! We both know I should only _ever_ be at your back! I have never fought with someone in my _life_ that I respect as much as you. Where the hell is the respect for yourself?!”

She stalled for a seconds, and he thought he'd broken through, but her hands balled into fists and she rallied herself.

“You think I'm fucking happy about this?!” she asked, voice scaling up in pitch. “You think I'm fucking delighted? Jesus Christ, Garrus, if I stopped and thought about it for a goddamn second I would be absolutely miserable! I've had life full of obstacles I've had to fucking fight to get through, and I have conquered every single one of them, no matter how I was told to give up! I have _always_ won!”

In a fast, violent movement she reached down and ripped off her glove, exposing her hand. Lifting it up towards him, he could see the cracked, scabbing-over skin, like sun-scorched sand. It took him a moment to realize what it was, and when he did, it shattered him. He could see the imprint of his own thumb in the damage to her skin.

“I can't _beat_ this, Garrus,” she said, voice broken.

“I did that to you?” he asked weakly, and his head and heart both dropped when she nodded.

“There's nothing to say. We both know that, and that's why I don't want to talk about it,” Shepard said, turning away from him, utterly dispirited. “I always knew it wouldn't ever work. I just wanted to believe it would for a little while.”

She walked away, Tali following, and he stood there and stared at the corpse of Doctor Saleon. When he glanced over his shoulder, just before the doors closed, he could see the scorched bullet mark directly between her shoulder-blades, barely broken through the layers of her armor. Like a bullseye.

He might as well have put it there himself.


	17. Chapter 17

Well.

Shepard had made a complete idiot out of herself.

“We've discussed many times before what bottling your emotions can do.”

Pacing across the low-lit cabin, Shepard stepped into the bathroom, door sliding silently out of the way. Turning on the water in the narrow sink briefly, she wet her hands and wiped them over her face. Glancing up into her reflection, eyes red, skin paler than usual, she pursed her lips. Not a good look.

There was a soft clearing of a throat in her ear.

“I'm a soldier. It was a mission. I should have kept my head,” Shepard said to her reflection.

There was a quiet 'hmm', soothingly familiar. “You're also a person, Faith. You should have called me sooner. I was beginning to grow concerned. Your file's been flagged, several times. I know we agreed that _you_ would call _me_ when you needed me, but...”

Letting out a breath through her nose, she turned away. Amanda's calm, easy voice usually helped, but today it only annoyed her. Crossing to the bed, she settled on the edge of it, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“Is this about the kid? Listen, I-”

“You're under unprecedented stress. Abrupt changes in behavior are going to be flagged, regardless of what they are, Faith. You know that. You're under a microscope.”

“Even more so than usual?” Shepard quipped tiredly.

Anyone else would have said something placating. Amanda just said, “yes. Exactly. But a microscope magnifies, not just your flaws, but your own stress, your own negative patterns and bad habits. It also magnifies your virtues. I know how much empathy you feel. Will you tell me about the little girl?”

“Emi,” Shepard said.

“Emi, then.”

“She, I don't know. She's suspicious of everybody, the people who should have protected her let her down, and she thinks I'm a superhero, you know? She doesn't trust anyone, but she trusts me. I just wanted to help, but somehow it all got tangled up, and I-” Shepard stalled, not sure how to finish it.

“So I think we can both safely say she reminds you a lot of yourself when you were young,” Amanda surmised gently. Her voice had gotten softer, more crackling over the years, but after ten years together, it still easily pulled up old memories. “You've always had to protect yourself, haven't you, Faith? Be your own superhero. And now you can do that for her.”

Shepard dropped her head, reaching up to wipe her eyes again. “I- yeah, I guess.”

“How are you feeling? Braced enough for the 'mean' read, or should we keep it easy?”

“No, I need it,” Shepard said quietly. Anyone else and it would have been intolerable, but she'd told Amanda a long time ago that she found the leading questions irritating. She needed the hammer, not the chisel.

“We've discussed before your refusal to form emotional attachments,” Amanda said calmly, her voice continuing on relentlessly when Shepard flinched. “Be they familial or romantic. You've always insisted that your duty comes first, that you feel secure in your choices and your life. It sounds to me that you're reaching for them at this very inopportune moment because you're feeling a lack of stability, maybe even conviction. Do you agree with that?”

“Conviction in what?” Shepard asked, irritated.

“You tell me. That's the one you chose to focus on.”

Breathing out a sigh through her nose, she remembered mom's message. It was what anyone would have said. It was what anyone would have claimed about her, that she was completely unsuitable at best, and actively sabotaging humanity at the worst. All for something she couldn't control.

“I've stepped into the shoes of someone who's better than me in every conceivable way, and he failed. David's...he believes in me. He believes what I've seen, but I just feel like I'm failing him by being me. There are things going on I can't just fight my way through, things I can't fix, I can't solve.”

“Your worth is not in accomplishments only, Faith. David knows you. He wouldn't have stood behind you if he didn't believe in you. Maybe speaking to him of your worries would help you find some conviction again.”

“And get myself flagged again?” Shepard quipped tiredly.

“If you'd been honest with David about why you were helping the girl, your file wouldn't have been red-flagged,” Amanda said, voice taking on a hint of sarcastic humor. “It falls in line with your psych profile, Faith.”

Shepard laughed, amused and bitter all at once. “Shit. I guess I should have called you first. Sorry, Amanda.”

“As for your outburst you're so worried about, I suppose my biggest concern is your sudden and unexpected choice to break with regulations.”

“They're not Alliance, it's a...consultant, I guess you could say. We fight good together.”

“That makes more sense. High praise, coming from you,” Amanda said with a faint chuckle. “Do you worry your outburst somehow damaged your standing with your crew?”

“Only one witness, another consultant,” she acknowledged grudgingly. “It's...complicated.”

“I am well aware of your many complications, Faith.”

Flopping on her back on the bed, Faith let out a long sigh. “This is new.”

There was a long pause that stretched on for far too long. Faith closed her eyes and let out a faint huff. Finally Amanda spoke again, dryly, “do I have to get the squirt bottle?”  
“Hey, if you could figure out how to get it to work from there- Amanda. I can't tell you. It's not a clearance thing, it's a- it's an Alliance cannot know thing. No one can know thing.”

“That seems very out of character for you, Faith,” Amanda said, surprise coloring her voice.

“I know,” Faith sighed slowly. “Trust me, I know.”

“Give me a minute to turn off all my recording devices. It always takes me a minute to figure out this omni-tool,” Amanda said, voice turning annoyed. “My granddaughter bought me this one for my birthday, and I can't for the life of me figure out the settings. I have to call her several times a week.”

“You sure?”

“I'm trying to do my job here, Faith! If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times. If the rules preclude me from doing my job properly, then they're not good rules.”

“Very renegade of you, doc.”

“There. I think I've got it. Now, what's such a big secret that it can't possibly go in your file, Faith?”

“Well, first off, I have to say that I'm not sure how I feel about him. I mean, we're friends- better friends than I realized, I think. We just clicked together, you know? That happens so rarely for me. I get along with everyone, but-”

“You get along with everyone by choice, not because it comes naturally. Not because you trust.”

“Exactly, and, I don't know how I feel about him beyond that because I can't even think about it. I've been avoiding thinking about it, and things just keep...happening between us. And I think we were both being- sort of? Well, we were ignoring the issues, and what kept happening, and...it sort of blew up.”

“Why can't you think about it?”

“Well, he's turian, and...” Shepard trailed off, having trouble saying it out loud.

“That doesn't sound like you. Is it because of your Spectre status, you worry about how people would react? There's still a great deal of animosity between turians and humans, and you're a public figure now.”

Shepard blinked. Oh crap, she hadn't even thought about that. “Well, I am now!”

Amanda chuckled softly. “Then what is it?”

“Jesus. Okay. Well...I'm allergic to turians, it turns out. Bodily fluids- which I found out through punching him. And...apparently a contact allergy as well, possibly a cross-contamination thing or something, I don't...it's not like they sweat that I've ever seen, but...it was so stupid. I can't even look him in the face because it feels unsafe, but it's like all the rules I have to follow around him make it...I dunno. But I didn't even feel as nervous losing my virginity as I did holding his fucking hand.”

There was dead silence on the other end of the line. It made her uncomfortable. When Shepard cleared her throat, Amanda said quietly, “processing. Just a moment.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

“That's big, Faith.”

“Yep. I almost died again.”

“Well, hell,” Amanda said, startling Shepard into a little laugh. “It sounds like an emotional confrontation was really the least that could have happened, Faith. What did he say?”

“He was angry. So was I. He said he respects me, and I'm not respecting myself by putting myself in danger like this. I don't feel like that was fair of him. I mean, I'm not the only person in this, you know? I'm not doing it alone!”

“Did it feel like he was blaming you, that he was angry _at_ you?”

“I mean, in the moment it felt like it was an attack? But in hindsight, I don't know. It feels less like he was blaming me, and more he was upset that I was putting myself in danger? But the problem is, _he's_ the danger, isn't he?”

“How do you think he feels about that?”

She took a minute to think about it, what it'd be like with the roles reversed. If she could accidentally kill her...friend. “I don't know. I'd be confused. Sad, I guess. I don't know...I don't know what's there between us, because I haven't been letting myself think about it, but I know we're friends. I feel secure in that. I guess I'd be angry with myself. I mean, I am angry with myself.”

“So it's fair to say that you're both probably angry with yourselves and not actually talking things out. That's a recipe for an emotional confrontation. You've always prided yourself on following your duty, Faith, and normally this would seem very out of character for you to be so irresponsible with your own life. After all, you would have never gotten where you are today without discipline and difficult choices.”

“You say normally,” Faith pointed out, rather than sulking about the implication that she wasn't being disciplined. Rude.

“These are unprecedented times for you. A weight you've never had to carry before. You've always carried your weight alone, never felt you had anyone you could rely on to help you shoulder that. You haven't been calling me, you haven't been honest with David...it's natural you'd need to find an outlet.”

“You make it sound like I'm using him,” she accused faintly. Lifting both hands, she rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes.

Amanda sighed, exasperated, “let's not turn this around to be negative about ourselves, Faith. Spray bottle. That is what friends are _for_. That's what loved ones are for, when they're capable of it. Support. To help you carry your burden, and for you to do the same for them. You found someone that makes you want to share that burden a little. Wonderful. The circumstances of it, though, are shit.”

“Two swears in one session. A new record,” Faith quipped, but knowing she'd get scolded if she just deflected, she sighed and slumped. “I know what I have to do.”

“You always did. It's just awful and you didn't want to face it, because you're already facing so much. No one could blame you for that.”

“And it made me happy,” she said weakly.

“It made you happy,” Amanda agreed quietly. “Happiness is a renewable resource, though, Faith. Just because you've found it somewhere that you know is wrong doesn't mean it's all you have. You can find happiness in other places. I understand why you don't want to confide this in anyone. Especially not David.”

“I lied to the doctor about the contact allergy, because I was afraid it would be the straw that broke the camel's back, and she'd finally report it. That'd be a death sentence for my career.”

“I understand. You do what you have to do to get through whatever you're fighting through, Faith. But that also means not putting yourself in avoidable danger. Is there anyone else you feel safe confiding in?”

“There's someone that probably has some questions I have to answer,” Shepard admitted quietly. “Being that she overheard the fight and all.”

“Do you trust her?”

“I'm not great at trust, doc,” Shepard said with a small chuckle. “With my life? Sure. With my emotions? I don't know.”

“Well, let's look at it in a logical way. You're good at that. The cat's already out of the bag, isn't it? So isn't it better to get ahead of it before anything can be misconstrued or accidentally leak out?” Amanda asked.

Shepard pulled up to sit, rubbing her forehead again. She nodded slowly, letting out a long breath. “When you're right, you're right. Thanks for doing this off the record.”

“I don't work for the Alliance. I work for you. I only give them what you ask me to, and because we know if they get techy you'll have to get a new therapist, and you won't like that. I'll make my report that we discussed Emi and it falls in line with your psych profile, get that red flag taken off. Not that they could pull you aside at this point considering your status, but it's better to keep things tidy.”

“I'm sorry to ask this of you.”

“It's what I think is right to do. Where are you headed now, if that's not classified?”

“Back to the Citadel. I have to meet with some asari diplomat and check in with the Captain.”

“Be safe. Take a little time for yourself, if you can stand to,” Amanda said.

“Oh come on, you know me better than that. Okay. I should go.”

“Call me again any time. You are my only client any more, after all.”

“That's me, keeping people from well-deserved retirement. Bye, Amanda.”

“Goodbye, Faith.”

Letting the call end, Faith let out a long, slow sigh. Shit. While she felt better, unfortunately all that meant is she now had to brace herself to do all the difficult shit. She just didn't know if she felt up to doing it face to face.

Amanda was right, and she had to acknowledge it. She'd never been under this particular kind of pressure before. High pressure, absolutely. Physical strain, yes. But this was every kind of pressure at once, and acknowledging the weight of it all made her feel crushed...but ignoring it was worse.

Putting her own life at risk for an 'if only' was stupid. It was obvious they both recognized that, and didn't like it. Maybe she'd been ignoring it because it felt like losing. It wasn't. It was life, and there was no changing it.

Hopefully it didn't mean she had to lose her friend.

But first...

Sighing to herself, Shepard lifted her omni-tool, and made a call. “Tali? We need to talk.”

It was hard to avoid people on the Normandy.

That was one of the irritating things about being on a ship, rather than planet or stationside. At least looking busy helped. Garrus wasn't angry any more- at least not angry at Shepard. He hadn't been apart from that split second. The rest of it was still there, especially the anger with himself, but right now he was more embarrassed.

Why had he done that?

Obviously the situation had been raw and so had he, but he hadn't had a problem following her orders before then. Maybe it wasn't about that. It probably wasn't.

Yeah, it hadn't been about her demanding they turn Saleon in, not even a little- that was all Shepard, and he couldn't blame her for sticking to her principles.

But all he could think about was how upset she'd been. It made him feel like shit. Well, he'd deserved it. He'd pushed her at the worst possible time after both of them refusing to talk, turned it around and blamed it on her, and he'd gotten a well-deserved verbal slap across the face.

And then even worse.

No, that stupid hope that they could figure out some way to work things out was dead and gone now. He couldn't even touch her without hurting her. Shit. Talk about a nasty joke from the universe.

“You all right?'

Glancing over from the pieces of his rifle, he turned his attention to Williams. She leaned a hip against the wall, crossing her arms. “It can't possibly need to be taken apart _three_ times, can it?”

“You can never be too careful,” he said.

“Doesn't feel good?” Williams asked. When he turned his head again, she shrugged her shoulders. “Catching the guy that got away.”

“Shepard wanted to take him in. Didn't work out,” Garrus said, rather than answering the question.

Williams raised both eyebrows, shifting. “Did you want to, though? I heard what kind of bastard he was, I don't know if I would have wanted him to get away.”

“I don't know. I'll be thinking about that for a while,” he said with a small shake of his head. “All I know is it doesn't feel as good as it should, and it didn't bring anyone back to life.”

“I guess that's true,” Ashley said, letting out a long sigh.

“How did you know I was out of sorts? I've been told turians are hard to read for humans.”

“I might not know turians, but I know guns,” Ashley said with a small shrug of her shoulders. “I always take them apart when I'm mad. Something my hands can do without my brain, I guess. Commander makes it look easy.”

“Hmm?”

“Fighting with aliens. Getting along. She makes it look easy...it's not easy for me. I should have worked at it harder,” she said, to his surprise.

“Gunnery Chief, is this some sort of apology?” he said, letting the sarcasm seep into his voice.

Rather than stiffening up and getting angry like she had before, Ashley sighed and shrugged. “Seems so, Garrus. I should have snapped to sooner. The Commander trusts you, that should have been good enough for me. I wish I could say that I'd just be better at trusting, but everything takes time, and I'm going to do my best. And probably screw up sometimes.”

“Well, that's not just a human thing,” Garrus said, and then gave her a nod. “Thanks, Ashley.”

She smiled, and then glanced over her shoulder. “What do you think the chances are that Doctor T'Soni will accept an apology?”

“Pretty good. You should give it a shot.”

“Thanks, Garrus,” Ashley said, and gave him a nod. Turning on a heel, she strode off, shoulders back.

He watched her go, and then turned back to his work with a small, surprised shake of his head. Well, what did you know? First Kaidan, then Ashley. It seemed that Shepard's way of dealing with them was working out in the end.

She had a talent for that.

He was nearly done putting his cleaned rifle back together when his omni-tool demanded attention. Frowning, he brought it up. Incoming call-

It was Shepard.

Uncertainly he stared at it, but finally picked it up before it could drop.

“Faith.”

“Garrus. Are you somewhere quiet?” her voice was quiet, raspier than usual. It bothered him.

“Not really, but I can try to find somewhere.”

“It'd be appreciated.”

It took him a couple minutes to find a corner out of the way where he could see anyone coming. Leaning in a corner at last, he crossed his arms. It was hard to know where to start. Seconds ticked by, until they both spoke at the same time.

“Did you-”

“I need to-” Garrus stopped, and so did she, but he steeled himself and kept going before she could try again. “I need to apologize.”

“Is that what we're going to do? Trade them back and forth?” Shepard asked faintly.

“I should have followed orders.”

“I should have kept my cool. I talked to Tali. She knows. I trust her, I don't really have a choice, I suppose. She half figured it out on her own, so-” Shepard stopped, and he heard her sigh.

“That was my fault. I put you in more danger because-”

Shepard interrupted him quietly. He let her. “We should have talked. It was easier not to.”

Ignoring his own discomfort, the awkwardness that seemed to stupidly crop up around her, Garrus steeled himself. “I know. I'm not always great at talking, Shepard. Shooting's a lot easier. But, well, let's give it a shot.”

“Hell, Garrus,” she sighed, sounding more like herself. “Now that I'm here it's kind of like there's not anything to say. Not anything that's going to make it make sense. I mean, it was probably the most ill-advised-”

“Reckless,” he supplied, remembering Kaidan's words.

“Moronically shortsighted bit of fuck-aboutery I've-”

“We've,” he interrupted, just to make her laugh.

It shouldn't have felt good when it worked.

“We've ever engaged in. Thank you for taking some of the weight of the world off my shoulders for a little while. It helped, even if we were lying.” Her voice grew tired again, wistfully forlorn. “I don't want to lose my friend, but I can't depend on you the way I have been. You're dangerous to me, Garrus. In more ways than one.”

It was a bittersweet pain, the quiet confession. He should have told her he felt the same way, but he couldn't. Not now.

It would just make things harder for both of them.

“If having your back means not being at it, so be it. We got caught up in things, that's all, and now we take a step back. I'll give you space. At least Tali knows now, she can help so things don't seem strange.”

“Yeah, I suppose so,” Shepard allowed quietly.

She fell silent. He could faintly hear the sound of her breathing, slow and even, and he stared across the garage without really seeing anything. When she sighed, it sounded so heavy that it made the regret he was feeling all the worse.

“I'm sorry about what happened with Saleon.”

“It doesn't feel like you were right just yet, but that might just be because he shot you in the back.”

“That was stupid of me,” she admitted ruefully. “I should have disarmed him. I just...know how angry you are, about Saren, how angry you were about Saleon...about how following the rules and submitting to the authorities doesn't always work. And I get that.”

“Sometimes it feels like you don't,” he admitted. She laughed faintly. “I wish I could somehow line up what I see with what you say, Shepard. That there's justice in following the rules, because my experience hasn't proved that's the case.”

“There's a quote that sticks with me- I know, bear with me,” Shepard said with quiet humor in her voice. “Take the universe and grind it down to powder and sieve it through the finest sieve and show me one atom of justice, one molecule of mercy.”

Confused, he asked, “isn't that the opposite of what you're trying to say, Shepard?”

“No. There's no metric for justice, Garrus. You can't quantify mercy. You just have to believe in them, and strive for them. They don't exist without us,” Shepard said quietly. “There is no justice in this universe without us, so it's our duty to do everything we can to create it.”

“Was it justice to risk him going free, instead of ending him then and there?” he asked, her quiet words resonating in his mind- and his heart.

“Was it justice to execute him? Or was it easier? Choices are what make us who we are.”

“Sometimes the hardest thing is the right thing to do,” he said, quoting Shepard back at herself.

There was a pause, and then a sad little laugh. “Well, shit, Garrus. I didn't expect you to use it against me.”

“What is it Joker says? Don't dish it out if you can't take it, Shepard.”

“Hmmh,” she said quietly. A pause, and then she asked hopefully, “friends?”

“I never stopped, Shepard,” he promised her.

Maybe it'd get easier in time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The quote in question from one of my favourite books :D ](https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/8270917-all-right-said-susan-i-m-not-stupid-you-re-saying-humans)
> 
> Happy Friday!


	18. Chapter 18

Most everyone had stepped off the ship to eat, except those on duty.

Garrus had stayed to keep Joker company- it wasn't like he didn't know Citadel inside and out. Tali had promised to bring him back some takeout. It was nice of her, he knew Quarian cuisine wasn't exactly represented on the Citadel. Or anywhere.

“Yeah, Kaidan said he's gonna bring me a slice of pizza. I heard some asari restaurant started serving it. I told him to try deep into the Wards, you know, to find a real human restaurant, but...I guess that's a lot of wandering for a short leave. Hopefully it's not crap.”

They rode the elevator down, side by side, relaxed. By now he 'got' Joker, his particularly prickly sort of attitude, and found they got along fine. He could say the same for most- even Kaidan seemed to have relaxed around him.

Hopefully it wasn't just because Garrus and Shepard had been keeping their distance.

“Well, I've heard other humans say asari cuisine isn't bad,” Garrus said easily.

“Garrus,” Joker said, exasperated, “it's _pizza_.”

“And that means something to me,” he drawled sarcastically.

“We need to get more human movies on this ship,” Joker groused, preceding him out of the elevator. “Pizza is the pinnacle of human achievement.”

“That just makes humanity sound sad, J-”

“What the hell?”

Garrus stalled as Joker stopped short. Confused, he stepped past him, peering into the mess hall. Well. He could only agree with that question.

What the hell.

The little human sitting at the table turned their head towards them, eyes narrowing. Definitely a child, in what he was pretty sure were human sleeping clothes covered in purple hearts. She crossed her arms over her chest clumsily, lifting her chin.

“Uh, kid, you lost?”

“No,” she said defiantly, and his suspicion solidified.

Great.

“Shepard's going to be angry you left the hospital,” he told her, and knew he was right when her eyes widened. Not guilt, though, just surprise.

“Seriously?” Joker asked, sighing and moving past Garrus to get the coffee he'd come down for. “Damn it, Shepard.”

“She promised she'd tell me when the ship came to Citadel, but she didn't,” the small child said, belligerently.

Hopefully the lack of aggression meant she'd never actually caught sight of him on their first meeting. It wasn't as if he was C-Sec any more, but he doubted she'd care. Moving to the table, he pulled out a chair across from her. Suspicious brown eyes tracked him.

They reminded him of Shepard, dark and warm at the same time.

“Shepard's working right now. I'm Garrus. You're Emi, right?”

“Yeah,” she admitted.

“How'd you get on the ship?”

“They were loading something into the ship- the uh, cargo bay,” she said, proudly. “Nobody saw me.”

He heard Joker mutter another 'what the hell'. Garrus wasn't surprised, himself. Impossible to keep duct rats out of- or in places. She'd probably found an escape from the hospital the day they'd put her in there.

“What if Shepard was going to come surprise you? She'll be worried.”

That cut through, and Emi's expression instantly fell, her shoulders slumping. “I just- she promised to tell me.”

“Shepard doesn't break her promises,” he said, and her chin lowered. “But she had lots of business to see to. Maybe she didn't want to tell you until she was done so you weren't waiting.”

“You screwed up, kid,” Joker agreed.

“But I'm here now, so I should stay here,” Emi said evenly. “When you get lost you're supposed to stay in the same place.”

“Oh, now you're lost?” he asked, not bothering to hide the sarcasm. She wrinkled her nose, but didn't argue. Shaking his head, he brought up his omni-tool. “I'm going to message Shepard so she doesn't panic. You'd better hope she hasn't already gone to the hospital.”

“I want to see the bridge and where the guns are at.”

“We're not babysitters, kid,” Joker said, settling down into his usual seat at the top of the table.

“I'm not a baby! I can take care of myself.”

“You're not wandering around the ship,” Garrus countered, sending off a quick message to Shepard. He expected she was at the embassy still. “You're sitting right here until Shepard gets here. No arguing.”

“I'm gonna be bored,” she protested.

“I don't see how that's our problem, stowaway,” Joker said with a scoff.

Emi scowled, sinking back in her seat. He noticed she was rubbing at her left arm, fingers digging in lightly. He gestured towards it. “You feel okay?”

“It's weird and it doesn't always work good,” she said, fingers curling in towards her palm.

“That's your new arm?”

“Yeah,” she said quietly, flinching a little. “The physical therapy hurts, it's all achy. I don't wanna do it.”

“You know, I do PT every other day,” Joker said, tilting his head when she glanced up at him curiously. “It's true. If I don't, I probably wouldn't be able to do my job.”

“What do you do?”

“I'm the best damn pilot in the Alliance. Maybe even the galaxy,” Joker said.  
When Emi shot him a dubious look and glanced to Garrus, he nodded and confirmed, “he is.”

“What do you do?” Emi asked him, the question sounding like a challenge. She didn't seem to know how to talk to someone without it being aggressive. Well, living on the streets would do that.

“I kill bad guys and I watch Shepard's back,” he said rather than mincing words, surprised when that got him his first smile out of the kid.

She extended a finger and pointed at him, still smiling. “You're Shepard's sidekick,” she said, much to his chagrin.

Joker immediately started laughing.

“Hey-”

“Holy shit, you are,” Joker cackled.

Even Emi giggled. He endured the laughter for as long as he could, and then told them both off with a growl. Just as he expected, it didn't scare the kid in the least. She just got more pleased with herself.

Reminded him of someone.

Despite Joker's attitude, he proved to be pretty good with the kid. Garrus didn't have any problem with them himself, especially when Emi stopped trying to put up the tough front. Talked a mile a minute, though, once she relaxed. It was hard to keep up.

Luckily she was easily distracted, first by 'real ship food', which she pretended to like, and then once she'd convinced them both to get her silly, bloody game on their omni-tools, they were occupied with that until Williams got back. She came around the corner and stalled, staring from the kid back to them. Joker was occupied by his battle against Emi.

“What?”

“Who left a _child_ with you two?” Ashley asked, vaguely accusing.

“What exactly is the insinuation here?” Joker asked.

“It wasn't insinuation. No one should leave a child with you, Joker.”

Emi glanced up from her omni-tool. “I didn't get left, I came here by myself.”

“She came to see Shepard,” Garrus said, taking pity on Ashley's obvious confusion. “Sneaked out of the hospital and broke onto the ship. You're not supposed to be proud of that.”

“Well, I am,” Emi said. “I got your spine, Joker. Loser.”

“Damn it. I needed that spine!”

Emi giggled.

“I mean, to be fair, I'd probably be proud of myself, too,” Ashley said, which got her a small smile from Emi. Ashley leaned into an easy, friendly voice. “That's pretty dangerous, though. Where's your parents?”

Garrus was lifting a hand, but it was too late. When she noted his gesture, he shook his head at her. Puzzled, she lifted both eyebrows. Garrus stalled- he didn't want to call the kid an orphan in front of her.

“I only have one, Shepard's my mom,” Emi said, and they were all struck silent.

Oh, Shepard was going to _love_ that.

“Uh-” Joker stammered.

“Um,” Ashley said uncertainly.

“Emi,” Garrus finally said, and she scowled.

“Well, she's _gonna_ be,” Emi said belligerently, voice rising in volume. Scowling at them all, she slumped back in her chair.

Garrus glanced at Joker, who shrugged. His omni-tool beeped, and he dismissed the game to read the message. Probably better to paraphrase that many swear words.

“Shepard's on her way back. Says she's going to haul your butt back.”

Emi's face fell. “But I didn't get to see the bridge.”

“What's so important about seeing the bridge? We're docked, there's nothing much to see,” Garrus asked.

“Beth called me a liar and that nobody would ever want me or let me go on the Normandy, because I'm too stupid and no one likes me,” Emi said, eyes going watery even though her expression stayed mulish. “I'm not stupid, I promised Shepard I would do my school. I just didn't get to before because I didn't have nowhere to live.”

The three of them shared a glance.

“Oh, she's gonna _eat_ those words,” Joker said.

“Big time,” Ashley agreed.

“Emi, how would you like to sit in the pilot's chair?” Garrus asked.

She beamed.

Stressed, brain overloaded with new information and the new panic that came from being out in the crowded Citadel, Shepard re-boarded the Normandy already on edge.

The absolute fucking chutzpah of the little pain in her ass! She'd already contacted the hospital, dealt with that whole-ass mess, but this was additional stress she in no way needed right now. Okay, yes, she'd forgotten to call, but it wasn't like she'd leave without popping by- even if it was only for a half hour!

Stomping to the front of the bridge with her shopping slung over her arm, she found Joker in his chair, alone. He turned his head as she approached, grinning.

“What the hell.”

“That's what I said,” Joker said agreeably. “They went down to the garage.”

“Why is she wandering around my ship?!”

“Because Beth sounds like an asshole,” Joker said, laughing at her long, tired sigh.

“You're a grown man, you don't get to call a little girl an asshole,” Shepard sighed, reaching up to rub her forehead. “Jesus Christ, what a single fucking attempt at a good deed has brought me. This is ridiculous.”

“She's a tiny hurricane, Shepard. I guess next time you'll have to remember to call,” Joker said.

“You shut up,” she gently cuffed the back of his chair, bag swinging. “All right, all right. I'm going to go retrieve my freaking wayward not-ward. Jesus, why did Batman keep taking them in?”

Shaking her head, she turned away and started stomping up the aisle, helmet tucked under her arm. Anderson had bought her line about needing to intimidate someone, at least. She knew it looked weird, but it was still the only way she could convince herself to leave the ship.

“You gotta battle my bun-bun later! She keeps kicking my ass!” Joker called after her.

“Oh my god, Emi,” Shepard groaned to herself, reaching up to rub her forehead.

The ship was still quiet as she navigated her way down, enough so that she could hear voices echoing as she entered the garage. She followed the sounds, relieved to see not just Garrus with the kid, but Williams. Ashley would know what to do with the kid, she had little sisters. Wait, didn't he have at least one, too?

Wait a fucking second...

“Why do you have a fucking gun?!”

All three of them spun to face her as she stormed up to them. Garrus awkwardly reached up and rubbed the back of his neck inside his cowl, and Ashley flushed. Emi just looked defiant, clutching the sniper rifle that was nearly as long as she was tall. She was still in some of the pajamas Shepard had gotten her.

“The safety's on, and it's not loaded, Shep,” Ashley said.

“Oh my fucking god,” Shepard groaned, reaching up to rub her forehead. “Emi, you're going to give me a stroke. Do you really need pictures of yourself holding a _weapon_? They're never gonna let me come back to the hospital, kid.”

“I said she couldn't take any pictures with a gun,” Ashley promised her.

Oh good. The very least amount of reassurance. Hooray.

“Is it really a big deal?” Garrus asked.

She shot Garrus a narrow glare, and he lifted both taloned hands defensively towards her. Letting out a hiss of breath, she crouched down and beckoned Emi over. Reluctantly the kid handed Garrus back the gun and wandered over. Not looking near sorry enough.

“You're gonna get me in deep shit if you keep pulling stuff like this.”

Emi frowned. “You promised I would be _first_ to know.”

“I did. I should have worded my promise better, I'm sorry. But I was going to come and see you. See? I got you some proper clothes so we could go out and eat if the nurses said it was okay,” Shepard offered out the bag over her arm. Emi frowned, but took it, opening it and peering inside. “I just had to deal with work first. I _hate_ shopping, and this is the second time I've done it for you, so that's gotta count for something, right?”

“You remembered I like purple,” Emi said in a small voice.

“I try, Em. I really do try. I'm not great at it all the time, but-”

The words cut off as the little pain jolted forward and threw her arms around Shepard. She sighed, awkwardly reaching an arm around to return the hug. At least it was awkward for a second, and then she slowly relaxed.

When was the last time anyone had given her a hug?

She let the little reprobate burrow into her shoulder.

“I'm sorry,” Emi said, choked. “I don't want you to be in trouble. I just was scared you weren't gonna want to see me.”

“And I don't want you to think I forget you, Emi. Okay? I know I don't answer every message and always do the right thing, but I won't forget you.” Shepard pulled back, hands clasping her shoulders, smiling as best she could. “When I had to be on Earth, with my grandpa or my cousin...my mom wouldn't always remember to send me messages. But she told me, whenever I got lonely to go look at the stars, and she'd be there, thinking of me, too.”

“But was she?” Emi asked suspiciously, lifting a hand and wiping her eyes.

“I believed she was. And I still do,” Shepard said, sitting back on her heels. “Things can't happen unless we believe in them.”

“You can't make things true by believing,” Emi said.

“And you can't make them true _unless_ you believe in them,” Shepard countered easily. She smiled, and shrugged her shoulders. “Believing means sometimes being wrong, but you keep trying. I get that it's hard for you to believe in people. I was the same when I was your age. I didn't believe in anyone, because people always let me down.”

“They did?”

Shepard smiled and nodded. “Yeah. Trusting people takes hard work for people like us, right? We have to choose to trust. To think the good thoughts about people instead of the bad ones, but you know what? If you keep choosing it, and keep making yourself think the good thoughts...it gets easier.”

Emi frowned, but at least didn't snap at her or get defensive. Finally she shrugged, and Shepard chuckled.

“Shepard, got a very upset social worker on comms,” Joker said, voice crackling with humor.

“Shit, I didn't give her my contact info,” Shepard sighed, rubbing her forehead yet again. Was that a headache? “I'm bringing her back to the hospital, okay?”

“On her way here.”

“Damn it,” Emi muttered.

“Don't you start swearing now,” Shepard said, exasperated. “You've probably shortened the lifespan of several people with this stunt, including me. Come on, let's go meet her.”

Emi glanced over her shoulder at Garrus, and Shepard narrowed her eyes.

“I told her I would show her engineering,” he said apologetically, and then chuckled when she narrowed her glare to a squint.

Turning her attention back to Emi, Shepard tried to steel her voice. “If you're fast.”

That got her another hug, fast and impulsive, before Emi was off like a rocket. Starting in surprise, Garrus took off after her, and Shepard watched them go with tired amusement. He had no one but himself to blame. An odd warmth was in her stomach as she watched them go, a lopsided smile spreading across her face.

“Nice speech, Shep.”

“I stole that one from my therapist,” Shepard admitted cheerfully, rising to her feet with a long sigh. Turning her attention to Ashley, they shared a smile. “She wasn't too much trouble?”

“Plenty of it. If you were gone much longer she would have had Joker and Garrus saluting _her_ instead,” Ashley said.

Shepard noted the lack of a hitch in her voice mentioning Garrus, which was a relieving thing. She wasn't going to go drawing attention to it. It just meant that hopefully things were progressing in a more acceptable direction. Understanding, not misunderstandings.

“She's a dynamo, that's for sure. All I did was buy her a meal and now she's breaking onto my ship. Ah, what is my life?” Shepard asked tiredly.

“She called you her mom.”

“Jesus Christ,” Shepard said with a groan, closing her eyes as her stomach dropped. God. She did _not_ want to hurt the kid, but if she kept obsessing over this... “No. I'm not. The social worker told me she's finally agreeing to meet a foster family, so I figured she was over that.”

“Kids are adaptable, Shep. I'm sure once she settles in with a foster family she'll adjust. Kind of sounds like she's had a rough time?”

“Citadel is a bit of a mess in some ways, got the same problems as any big city, but magnified. Sometimes orphaned kids slip through the cracks,” Shepard said, scooping up the shopping bag and slinging it back on her shoulder. “They live in the ducts and stuff, steal to get by, whatever, odd jobs. It's a dangerous life. That's how she lost the arm.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, it's-”

The door to engineering slid back open, and Shepard smiled and shrugged at Ashley, stepping back. “I'd better go get her to the social worker before the poor woman gets any more stressed.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Ashley said with a nod.

Not accepting any more attempts at diversions, even though Emi tried a few, Shepard got her back to Miss Khan with a minimum of fuss. The poor social worker looked as frazzled as Shepard had been when she'd gotten the first message, which seemed to be a common thing around Emi. The kid, of course, wasn't in the least repentant.

That wasn't a surprise.

After all, she'd basically gotten exactly what she wanted- the little bastard.

Being outsmarted by a child probably should have annoyed Shepard, but this particular kid seemed to have a knack for it. No point in kicking up a snit. Hopefully the brief word she'd had with Khan would ensure the bullying stopped. Not that she doubted the brag-worthy pics would help, but it never hurt to be careful.

Kids could be nasty assholes to each other.

Once they were safely in transit she finally could breathe, mind racing over her hectic day as she laid in bed and failed to sleep. She could have gone and gotten a sleep aid. Maybe should have.

Instead she opened up the silly little game again, because if Joker caught up with her she'd never hear the end of it. Tali at least didn't brag about kicking her butt. Her rotund, adorable little murder-beast was hungry, but she'd yet again spent all her bun-bucks on hats. Who knew hats were so addictive?

Opening up her enemies list, she scrolled down the list of offline names. Not that there were many, especially not on the ship. She'd almost given up and gone to fight a bot when Garrus pinged on. Ah, excellent. She wasn't the only one up.

Shepard immediately sent a MegaMega Death Duel request.

When the audio-only call pinged her omni-tool thirty seconds later, she snickered and picked it up. “What?”

Garrus' always-pleasant, rolling voice was heavy with exasperation. “It's not a fair contest if you're so much higher level than me, Shepard. I'm all for competition, but this is just going to be sad.”

She didn't bother to hide her laughter. “My bun-bun is hungry and I'm not buying food.”

“Shepard, the death duel is a sacred ceremony I've known about for all of seven hours, and you're abusing it because you're cheap.”

“I'm not cheap, I'm broke,” she said, laughing when he accepted the duel. “I bought me and Emi the new series of hats. She's saving her bun-bucks for the golden egg.”

“I don't know what any of that means.”

“You will, Garrus. You will.”

They fell into companionable silence as her happy bun-bun with a very stylish rainbow top hat proceeded to eviscerate Garrus' sad little newbie bun. It didn't take long. As her bun formed giant scythes out of its gelatinous pink body and sliced his into easily digestable hunks in a spatter of blood and gore, he made an irritated noise. Shepard grinned.

“What, you wanted me to pretend it was a fair contest? You don't get more experience if I drag it out, Garrus.”

“This game is horrifying. Why is it _cute_? It makes no sense.”

“You'd rather they were disgusting monsters?”

“A little,” he said, and she laughed again.

It was always easy to laugh around him. It trailed off into silence, and she gave a long, slow sigh. She could feel herself sinking into the bed as she stared at the ceiling, letting the day bleed out of her.

“You okay?” he asked, the concern in his quieter voice softening her smile. “I know you don't like going into the Citadel.”

Surprised he'd asked, and then pleased in a warm, comfortable way, she let out another long sigh. “Well, panicking about Emi pushed it aside a little, but...I'm okay. I thought it'd get easier, but it's not. I guess this is my new normal.”

“Hmm. Did you get to see Anderson, at least?”

“Yeah. I like to debrief in person much more than over holo or call. But...I don't know. I wish I had something more for him than 'I've got more weird alien shit in my head and Saren's still ahead of me'. Something to prove he's right for believing in me.” Her voice cracked a bit, and she hastily cleared her throat to cover it. “Believing me. Over the Reaper stuff, you know? I know no one really does besides maybe Liara, but-”

“I do,” Garrus interrupted her quietly.

“You don't have to say that.”

“I didn't before,” he admitted, and she laughed roughly, glad it was just an audio call. “But I do now, Shepard.”

“What changed your mind?” she asked, reaching up to pinch the tears from the corners of her eyes. Ugh, what a baby.

“Nothing. I just chose to believe you.” The humor in his voice was low and just teasing enough to keep her from crying like an idiot.

“Is this a thing you're gonna do now? Use everything I say against me?”

“What can I say, Shepard? You know how to give a good inspiring speech,” Garrus chuckled.

“Pain in my ass,” she sighed, reaching up to rub her forehead. “Surrounded by pains in my ass. Are you okay if I don't take you on this mission? The Dantius rescue.”

“No, I'm going to throw a fit in front of the crew,” he drawled at her sarcastically.

“Ha, ha.”

Garrus sighed. “Shepard, take whatever space you need. Your safety is more important than my overwhelming need to kick your ass again and regain my honor.”

“Shit, Garrus. Maybe we've been going about this wrong. Maybe the solution all along was for me to keep kicking your ass until you hate me, and our rivalry overtakes-” There she stopped, again having a weird inability to say the actual word. Why was it so hard? It was over, wasn't it?

Why was the word 'crush' so hard to say?

They'd both admitted it, so it wasn't like it was new information.

“Why is it that you immediately went to _you_ kicking _my_ ass, when really I've racked up more wins than you?” Garrus said, thankfully ignoring her small brain failure.

“Because it's inevitable, Vakarian.” She cracked a yawn, arms stretching over her head. She collapsed, arms flopping back onto the bed. Shepard rubbed a hand over her face. “Shit.”

“I know enough by now to know that means you need to sleep.”

“Mmh,” she agreed in a tired murmur. His voice was so soothing. It really helped, like she was being wrapped up in it, insulated from the earlier panic and stress. “I just sometimes have trouble falling asleep. Like, I'm tired, but then I get to bed and I'm just...lying there. Brain going a mile a minute. I'm tired, but it just won't let me sleep.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

“I should try, though. I need this mission to go well. Poor Dahlia. I can't imagine what she's going through right now.”

“Probably trying to imagine it isn't conductive to restful sleep.”

“True. I should get to it.”

“Good night, Shepard.”

“Good night, Garrus,” she said with a smile. There was a pause between them, neither of them ending the call. She steeled herself and forced herself to add, “and...”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you, for still being here for me.”

“Where the hell else am I going to be, Shepard? It's not that big of a ship,” Garrus said.

She was still laughing when he ended the call.


	19. Chapter 19

* * *

The morning of the court case, Faith took an extra hour getting ready.

She'd watched hours and hours of vids. Maybe some of them had been entertainment vids, but there were still things to learn from them. How to dress, how to speak. She'd always been good at studying.

Today she wore makeup and put on the most adult clothes she could find. The pearl earrings granddad had given her before he died helped, and putting up her hair in a bun. She looked grown-up. She even wore heels, which she never did.

Mom was upset that she'd had to come planetside to deal with this, and Faith was, too. At least they saw eye to eye on that. When she'd joined her and cousin Ira for breakfast, they both had given her strange looks about her attire.

When Faith had mentioned it was 'tactics', like always, cousin Ira had said something under their breath about her being 'too old for her age'.

Faith knew she wasn't. It was just what Doctor Amanda called her shield, the part of her brain she needed to help her along right now. It was the part of her brain that did the lying, too, which she wasn't supposed to do even to protect herself. But Doctor Amanda understood why she lied, and said her job was to convince Faith she didn't need it.

That seemed like nonsense, but she liked Amanda enough not to fire her.

Mom gave another speech reminding her that they had to be 'bigger people' and not stoop to his level. That they should be honest and straightforward, and everything would be all right. That no judge in the world would ignore what a nearly-grown girl wanted for herself and take her away. Faith hoped that was true.

They ate breakfast. They went to the courthouse together. There were people outside.

Faith ignored them, like she ignored the lawyers, and everyone else. She looked at the judge. She waited, until she was asked to speak for herself. She never looked at them, at her fake father and his wife. The people who wanted her for what she could give them, and not who she was.

She listened to them pretend to be concerned about her while lying about mom. Saying horrible things. Accusing her of manipulating Faith, pushing her too hard. Calling her fragile. Sickly. Emotionally neglected.

Silently sitting next to mom, Faith got angrier and angrier.

By the time the judge asked her to stand and talk, she was seething.

“I just want to hear what you have to say,” the judge told her, in a good, trustworthy voice. She liked them. “You don't need to worry about anything else. Can we start with talking about why you didn't want to do the mediation?”

"There's nothing to mediate,” Faith said, keeping her voice quiet and calm. “The only person who respects me and cares about what I want is my mother. There is no middle ground. There is nowhere to 'meet', when the options are either my future, or forcing me to stay in a competition I don't want to be in.”

The judge blinked, but seemed less off-put than people usually did. “Well, that falls in line with what I read. Faith, you have to understand that people are very concerned about this abrupt change in plans. It's very unusual.”

Faith sighed, heavily. “I understand that I'm only seventeen and therefore _no one_ trusts a _single_ thing I say, but no one's manipulating me or telling me to drop out. It's a decision I made for myself.”

“Why?” the judge asked simply.

“I'm tired of other people being proud of me. I want to be proud of myself, do something for myself.”

“And you think you can't be proud of yourself if you continue gymnastics?”

“Gymnastics doesn't feel like it's for me any more, it feels like it's for other people. It doesn't feel like there's any of me left when other people are done with me,” Faith said, lifting one shoulder. “I'm tired of being picked apart. I want to go to the Academy. This is the career I want.”

“And why would waiting a year be so bad, Faith?”

“Why is it that everyone thinks I should wait when my mind is already made up? What is the purpose in waiting except to make _other people_ feel better?” she countered.

“You seem to know your mind very well.”

“I do,” Faith said. “Group therapy and mediation are just ways for people to tell me I'm wrong. I'm not wrong. I came to court because I knew you would actually listen to me. I have things to say and I want to be heard.”

The judge raised an eyebrow. “Well, we're all listening, Faith.”

She finally turned and faced the man, for the first time. He was sitting next to his wife, who would have been an inoffensive stranger if not for the continued attempts to mother her in the few times she hadn't escaped from them fast enough. If not for the nasty things they said about mother. If not for the pretend concern.

Faith thought about the speech she'd prepared, and discarded it.

“You're bad people,” she said calmly, lifting her chin. “Spreading lies about mom, ignoring what I want, pretending to be a father, emotionally manipulating me. I have a therapist, you know. That kind of shit doesn't get past her, and it didn't get past me. Telling me it's my fault you can't be a 'happy family' because I refuse to accept someone who abandoned me before I was born and didn't show up until I had something you could try to claim? I am tired.”

Why was she crying? This wasn't sad, this was her being righteous, being right. When the man tried to stand up, the judge lifted his hand. Finally someone was letting her talk. She didn't have to stay silent and be 'bigger', she didn't get to be talked over.

They _would_ listen.

Composure went out the window.

“I am TIRED of people taking pieces of me! I am tired of being treated like I'm stupid, or weak, or don't know my own mind! You have no right to me! You don't get to be proud of me, because you're nothing! You're nothing to me! What did you think was going to happen? That they were going to rip me away from mom and give me to you because you pretend to be a whole family? We are a whole family! We always were!”

She wiped her eyes defiantly, vision wavering, but still locked on him. “We were always a whole family _without_ you. Fuck you, Marcus. I don't know you. And you sure as hell don't know me, or you would have known I would win. I _always_ win.”

“Pumpkin, the swearing is unnecessary,” mom said in the quiet that followed.

“Sorry, mom,” Faith said and sat down, crossing her arms. “I'm seventeen, judge, and I will not go with those nasty people. This is a waste of court resources.” She'd heard that on one of the vids she'd watched.

“Yes, it seems to be, doesn't it?” the judge said, not sounding at all phased.

“Sorry mom. I'm not a bigger person, and I don't want to be.”

Mom sighed softly, but didn't sound annoyed with her. “Yes, dear.”

Faith crossed her arms, and smiled.

It felt good to be heard.

* * *

Staring at the body in front of her, feeling her eyelid twitching, Shepard clutched her gun.

The absolute. Fucking. Nerve of goddamn Nassana Dantius.

“I hate being manipulated like this,” Shepard said to Tali, glancing sidelong at her. “It would have been nice to know what I was walking into. What, did she think I wouldn't find out her sister was a fucking slaver?”

“It does seem like she just lied to you for the sake of lying to you,” Tali agreed, crouching down. “I'll take Dahlia's omni-tool and see what I can get from it, Shepard.”

Kaidan navigated his way back to them, glancing over his shoulder. Shepard stepped back from Dahlia's body, letting out a long, tired sigh. No point getting in a snit, it wouldn't change anything.

“Thank you, Tali. Anything that can be forwarded to control to possibly locate anyone she's sold. LT?”

“Sweep of the base turned up nothing, Commander, sorry. There's no one else here.”

“Hidden panels? Floor? Walls?” When he shook his head, Shepard gave a long, irritated growl. “Fucking hell. I would have at least felt better if there was anyone to rescue.”

“I should-” Kaiden cut off with a wince, and she stepped in, reaching for his arm. He lifted a hand to fend her off, and she stalled.

Shepard sighed. “Come on, let's get you on board so you can rest.”

“I'm fine,” he said, lifting a hand. “I won't hold up the operation.”

“The op is over, Kaidan,” she countered, cuffing his shoulder lightly. “Get your ass on board and go to the doctor. I know how bad those damn headaches are. Tali and I will be done soon. And don't you dare apologize.”

“I'm-” He stopped at her glare, the corners of his slitted eyes tight. It must be a bad one. “Right. Yes, ma'am.”

Shepard watched him go, and then turned back to Tali. “I'm going to do one last sweep of my own, or else I won't be able to sleep tonight.”

“I'm done here, I'll come with you,” Tali said, rising to her feet lithely.

They paced together, Shepard pausing frequently to check anything that looked out of place. Not that she mistrusted Kaidan, but leaving anyone here would be a death sentence. Tali kept glancing at her, until Shepard couldn't take it any more. She sighed.

“Just say it.”

“Are you doing all right?”

“I will be, Tali,” Shepard assured her with a faint chuckle. “Not much of a choice, is there?”

“We Quarians manage all right, Shepard. The Nerve Stim system built into our suits works on the whole somatosensory system. Not only touch, but also things like temperature- it's a very advanced haptic system.”

Shepard tried to think of a nice way to say what she wanted to. The instinctive rejection and discomfort weren't against Tali, or Quarians, but the idea of being relegated to a suit for the rest of her life. But that didn't mean expressing it wouldn't be insulting.

“That's pretty far to go for an ill-advised crush, Tali.”

“I was thinking more about the ever-present threat of having to be around a species that could kill you with saliva, Shepard,” Tali said sarcastically. When Shepard shot her a look, she giggled. “Well I'm sorry, but you have to admit it is a bigger problem than only Garrus.”

“Yeah, it's just the part I'm hung up on,” Shepard sighed, not bothering to lie about it.

“I suppose that makes sense. I'm sorry. At least Turians don't perspire for thermoregulation like humans do. That would make things even more complicated for you.”

“Small favors, I guess? The contact allergy, though...”

“You really should tell the doctor about it, Shepard. At least then she could isolate what exactly the allergen is,” Tali said.

“I assumed it was skin contact,” Shepard said, absently knocking on a dented wall panel with her pistol. The dull thud meant nothing was behind it. “But I guess it-”

She stopped, frowning, as Tali moved past her. When Tali paused and turned back towards her, Shepard gave a faint 'huh'. Well, damn. She hadn't thought about it, she'd been caught up in just how stupid and unfair it was, but...

“What?”

“The reaction I had. It was almost identical to one I've had before on a smaller scale. I have metal hypersensitivity. Nickle, cobalt, copper, and chromium are all identified,” Shepard said, and then gave a faint laugh. “I didn't even think of that.”

“So you're not allergic to his skin, you're likely allergic to the thulium,” Tali posited, and then shook her head slowly. “It isn't a metal anyone would normally come into casual contact with due to how it's used, except for the fact that Turian carapaces contain it. I can't believe humans can be allergic to metal. How strange.”

“Just checking off pieces of the periodic table one by one,” Shepard groused tiredly, shaking her head. “Oof, we're a messy species, Tali.”

“Join the club, Shepard,” Tali said, making her laugh.

“And Garrus complains about all our idioms. They're so useful! All right, I think this place is cleaned out. Let's get back on board, we need to get moving on those coords the Admiral sent me.”

They headed back to the ship side by side, Shepard relieved to see that Kaidan had taken her words to heart and wasn't waiting for them. Good. She of all people got that sometimes your body betrayed you- she didn't want him pushing himself on her account. He gave her a hundred percent of what he could manage.

That was what mattered.

As she stomped back on board, Shepard lifted a hand to her ear. “Joker. We're back. And Dantius is a lying sack of crap who didn't bother to tell me her sister was a fucking slaver.”

“You think you know someone, Commander. I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed.”

“That's fine, I'll be mad for both of us. Get on those coords the Admiral sent. Pressley has the bridge, I need to go see the doc.”

“Aye aye, ma'am.”

Tali was right.

If it was a thulium allergy and not a general Turian allergy, that was something that had to be known. Forewarned was forearmed, and it wasn't like she could test herself. Well, she could, but that would be idiotic; those sorts of things needed to be monitored.

Heading for her locker, she craned a look over her shoulder. Garrus was around here somewhere, more than likely. He usually was.

“Yo, Garrus!” she shouted, making Tali wince and turn to look at her. “Sorry.”

“Shepard!” the retort echoed across the space.

“You still got that old rifle scope? The laser one!”

“Yeah, you need it?”

“Please!”

“Would you two stop shouting?” Tali scolded.

Shepard grinned, unrepentant, going back to her locker. She was going to be out of her armor a lot less time than she'd like, but going to the doc meant she at least had to strip it off for now. Tali was between them, and so when Garrus opened his locker and found the scope, he passed it to her first.

“It's not a very good scope,” Tali said, passing it down to Shepard.

“It did the job it needed to,” Garrus protested.

“Yes, but Shepard has better.”

“I don't need the scope for my gun,” Shepard said, turning it over once. She lowered her voice. “I need the scope for an allergy test. Thanks, Garrus.”

“Of course. It's a thulium fiber laser,” Tali mused quietly.

“What?”

“Shepard has metal allergies. We were positing that it might have been the source of the...reaction,” Tali said carefully. “Shepard, I'm glad you're going to the doctor.”

“If it is a thulium allergy, I don't have much of a choice, Tali,” Shepard sighed. “Well, there goes my plans for a vacation home on Palaven.”

“A bad idea for many reasons,” Garrus said. His voice was uncomfortable, like it was every time they discussed her allergies in regards to...him. “I'm sorry, Shepard.”

“Nothing you did, or can do about it, Garrus,” she said, keeping her voice as light as she could. She pulled her mini toolkit for the fine jobs out of her locker, and slammed it shut. “I should go get this out of the way.”

Tossing the scope up and catching it, she spun on her heel and headed off. Oddly, she felt more pleased than resigned to another allergy. This was something she understood. The vaguery of 'turian contact allergy' replaced by something solid that she could plan for, anticipate.

Control.

The lack of it in this whole fucked up situation had been driving her nuts, the background noise in her brain that screamed about a challenge she couldn't overcome. No, it didn't change the situation. The situation still fucking sucked. But this?

This part she could at least pin down.

When she swung into medi-bay, Kaidan wasn't there any more, but the doctor was putting things away. Damn he had to take some strong analgesics. Poor guy.

“You look healthy enough,” Doctor Chakwas said, glancing over. When Shepard tossed the scope up again and caught it, she lifted both eyebrows. “Shepard?”

“Need to take this apart, get at the laser,” Shepard said, setting it down on the counter. “Unless you've got an easier to get at source of thulium.”

“It's a very soft rare earth metal, Shepard, not generally in use for medical supplies,” the doctor said, still giving her a curious look. “Are you saying you've had a reaction to it?”

“Contact dermatitis, like my other metal sensitivities,” Shepard said, and then stopped beating around the bush. Might as well just admit she'd been hiding the truth. “To Garrus. The rash was almost identical to the one I get from nickel- dried skin, cracking- but I didn't think about it being a metal allergy because usually they're small. You know, the size of a ring or whatever jewelry lied about being hypoallergenic.”

“You should have told me. Why didn't you? This isn't like you to be so careless with your health,” Doctor Chakwas said, immediately gesturing her to the bed.

Shepard wandered over and hopped up on the edge of it, resting her hands on her knees. “I don't know, doc. I just hate this whole situation. Amanda thinks I'm acting out of character due to unprecedented stress.”

“Amanda?”

“Doctor Abernathy. Sorry. But maybe having an entire race of aliens tapdancing their history in my skull has subsumed my personality. Maybe you're talking to some dead Prothean right now,” Shepard joked.

“As always, the sense of humor is unimpacted,” Doctor Chakwas said. “The fastest way to confirm contact dermatitis is-”

“Give it to me again, I know. Patch test. At least metal sensitivity can't kill me,” Shepard said with a sigh. “Just one more check mark on the list until we run out of things to check. You want me to take apart the scope for you?”

“Please,” Chakwas said, handing it over.

Opening her toolkit, Shepard fiddled through the small screwdrivers until she found one the proper size. Taking apart a scope wasn't something she regularly did, but at least she knew how. It just took a little longer than it should have. Maybe she needed to spend more time working on the basics.

Taking out the laser, she set the rest of the scope aside. Prying open the casing had to be done, because they didn't design it ever expecting someone would open this part. Why would they? She managed to pop off the front after some fiddling, and then pulled out the guts. The thulium-laced optic fiber was easy enough to pull out once she'd snipped the end with her tiniest pair of snips.

“There we go. You want me to wrap it around my finger or something?”

“No, Shepard,” Doctor Chakwas said, coming and taking it from her fingers. When she gestured to Shepard's hand, she obediently extended it, flipping it over when Doctor Chakwas gestured.

The small piece of fiber was taped to the back of her hand, and Shepard grinned. “I guess that's more doctor-y.”

“Is there anything else you have been neglecting to tell me?”

“No,” Shepard said mildly, feeling the change in the room. She'd pissed the doctor off. That was fair, and she'd do the penance she had to.

“Is that the truth?”

Shepard sighed faintly. “And here I thought I'd gotten that 'chronic liar' sticker taken off my file years ago.”

“You did, I just happen to have access to your full psychiatric file, unlike most people,” Doctor Chakwas said, turning to put away the tape. “And we both know that in times of stress-”

“Bad habits can come back,” Shepard finished. “What do you want me to say? I have control issues that I have worked very hard to mitigate, I acknowledge that, and I acknowledge that the lying is a symptom of it. Yes, I lied to you. Yes, I felt like things would be taken out of my control if I didn't. You're a hundred percent right and if I hadn't realized it was likely a thulium allergy, would I still be lying to you?”

The answer was no.

Not the actual answer, but the answer that would end this and make everything better.

“Yes, I probably would be,” Shepard admitted.

“Well, at least you're honest about the lying,” Doctor Chakwas said with a sigh. “Is there anything else I need to know?”

“No,” Shepard said honestly. “Though I think someone on Citadel had a cat because yesterday my eyes were itching after I left the Embassy. I sort of was distracted by the small child breaking onto my ship.”

“I can't help you, Shepard, if you're not honest with me.”

“I know,” Shepard said, dropping her head. “I just hate that there's nothing I can do. I hate feeling helpless.”

“Every attempt at exposure therapy your doctors have tried has backfired, Shepard. I'm sorry. We can't risk killing you just for the hope that your system will adjust. At least it should be a comfort that now that you have a full medical history, if you choose to have a child in-utero gene therapy might help keep them from a similar fate.”

“The only good thing the bastard who knocked my mom up has done for me,” she said sourly, reaching up and rubbing her forehead.

“Gene therapy combined with immunosuppression leading into exposure therapy might still be able to help you lessen severity or even remove some of your allergies, but...” When Shepard started nodding along, the Doctor paused, and smiled. “You've been down this road before, I take it?”

“Yeah. I don't have time for a two-year gap in my career right now, doc. Immunosuppression means I'd really have to get in that plastic bubble Joker teases me about. Put my whole life on hold for two, maybe even three years, and it might not even work? Just for the hope of finally seeing what the fuss is about strawberries? I don't know. It's just not viable right now.”

“Completely understandable, Shepard,” Doctor Chakwas reassured her. “It's very bad luck that your case is so complicated.”

“Ain't that the truth,” Shepard said, rubbing her thumb over the tape on her hand.

“Come back in one hour,” Doctor Chakwas said, giving a small nod of her head.

“Thanks, doc,” Shepard said, packing up her stuff and the destroyed scope. She slid off the bed and was heading for the door when there was a clearing of the throat behind her.

“Yeah?”

“Do I need to know what you were doing to get that contact dermatitis the first time?” Doctor Chakwas asked quietly.

Shepard smiled, weakly. “Nothing that's ever going to happen again, doc.”

The doctor didn't say 'sorry' like Tali and Garrus had, but she saw it on her face. She was tired of people feeling sorry. Turning around, she left the room, forcing an easy, natural smile back on her face.

It was a lie.


	20. Chapter 20

“Alliance has been informed about the loss of Rear Admiral Kahoku, Commander.”

“Thank you, Joker,” Shepard said briskly, pulling a bar down from the mess cabinet. She didn't want to eat, but she needed to. Hopefully it wouldn't make her vomit.

“They'll be prepared to accept the body at Citadel.”

“Then we'll head there after Nepheron. Send me his file so I remember the names of his kids.”

“Shepard-”

“Appreciate it, Joker,” she said, ending the call. Fucking Cerberus. Like the universe needed more evil scientists fucking around with things they didn't understand. At least hopefully wiping out the base they'd learned the location of would put a stop to things.

She opened another cabinet, grabbing the first bottle of clear liquor she found in the back. Taking it with her, she headed to her quarters. Ignoring the fact that she probably should have gone to the medi-bay, she passed by it. Didn't want to face her fuck up right now.

When her door opened, she dropped the bottle and bar on her desk and stripped unceremoniously, chucking her under-armor on the floor with her boots. Left it there in a pile. She was acting stupid and indulgent, but she felt like shit and she so rarely let herself wallow.

She'd nearly gotten Liara killed.

Getting her extracted had been high priority, and then she'd had to walk all the way back through that fucking base to recover the Admiral's body. Dead humans. It shouldn't matter so much when she killed people all the time, but it did.

The bottle scraped across the desk as she dragged it with her, naked.

Sitting on the floor of the tiny shower with her knees crammed to her chest, bottle in the cradle between her thighs and her stomach, neck between her bare breasts, she stared at the wall. The water sluiced down her, bringing back warmth to her ambulatory corpse. Fingers tangled in her hair as she let her head drop forward. It nudged the mouth of the bottle against her cheek, and she took the hint.

It was vodka, scratching down her throat like a purge and a threat. Threat to the back of her throat- she always got heartburn from vodka. It was worth it right now. But still.

She downed about four shots before the instructor in her brain screamed about wasting hot water and she had to stagger up and turn it off.

While she was yanking on a t-shirt, her omni-tool demanded attention; Ashley.

“You okay?”

“Doctor got me fixed up. Liara's going to be okay. She's sedated, but resting and in one piece again, Shep.”

“Sorry I didn't swing by- doc had her hands full. Thanks for the check-in,” Shepard said, grabbing the bottle again on her way past the desk, heading for the bed.

“About that all-”

“How does it feel to be the bad guys? Feels like shit to me.”

Ashley was silent for a minute. It stretched on too long as Shepard sank down on the edge of the bed. Finally, Ashley said tightly, “we're not them.”

“I just hope everyone else in the galaxy believes that. I've just met way too many people that scream 'human first' to feel real good about it. It's fine. We're fine. It'll be over soon.”

“I want to be there on Nepheron,” Ashley said quietly.

Shepard did her best to put on a more normal voice. “Good. Me too. Brief Alenko for me when you've rested. We should face our own shitty people together, we've got a responsibility.”

“Thanks, Shep. Rest well.”

Shepard ended the call, rather than drawing it out any further. Then she flopped on her back on the bed. Stared at the ceiling. Drank vodka. Ignored the uneasiness of her stomach and the bar on the desk she hadn't eaten.

She got a couple messages, which were ignored.

And then a call, which she planned to ignore until she realized who it was. Did she want to talk to him? What did it mean that he was calling her now? Who the hell had narced on her?

And why did they contact _him_?

She answered it anyways, like she always would. “I find it very offensive that anyone would tell you to call me.”

“Ashley said you sounded a little off,” Garrus said.

“So she went to you? The biggest pain to my ass, threat to my life, the underleveled and reigning loser Garrus?”

“You're slurring.”

“I'm _drunk_ , Vakarian. Not social tipsy, drunk drunk. It's a very rare coping mechanism for me. Usually, and if you delved into my psych profile like ev-ry-one seems to, you would know that usually I resort to lying and victimless sex when exercise doesn't work.”

There was a pause, and then he asked, “victimless sex?”

“The kind where no one's wondering what happened when you're gone in the morning. No discussion, no victim. Unfortunately I'm trapped on board a ship with a bunch of people who _salute_ me, so this bottle is now my new girlfriend. I'm calling her Cindy.”

“That's a pretty name, Shepard.”

Shepard smiled. Her arm was dangling over the side of the bed, bottle a weight anchoring her to the floor. “Isn't it? She was the girl I had a crush on before they took me out of physical school and put me in a home-cohort so I could advance at my own rate. I was six.”

“Do humans usually do group schooling?”

“It's good for our development. We're a very social species.” The vodka burned, except when it trickled down her chin. She wiped her hand across her face, but a drop curved down her neck and wandered between her collarbones, tickling. “We're- it doesn't matter.”

His voice was low and liquid, impossible to deny. “Talk to me, Trouble.”

She wanted to tell him not to call her that, but she loved it, and she wanted it, and everything else could go to hell. Except the bottle in her hand. “We need physical contact to survive.”

“Ah,” he said simply, voice buzzing in the small bones of her ears.

“It's weird. Physically, we literally need contact to survive. It makes our brains make chemicals. We're a bonding species. My granddad- Admiral Shepard. He hugged me a lot. Until he died. My mom doesn't much. She has sensory processing issues, it makes her uncomfortable.”

“That's rough,” he said evenly.

“You have a sister, right? I seem to remember that.”

“Yeah. No siblings?”

“My father left before I was born, and my mom never really- no. No siblings. Just me. I always wanted a sister, but not like a real one. Like one from the vids, you know.”

“Yeah, no, the real ones are a pain in the ass,” Garrus said, making her laugh faintly.

“Yeah,” she said faintly. “Are um. Do Turians pair bond?”

“You mean like getting married?” he asked, confused.

She laughed again, stuttering. “You can get married without pair bonding. And you can be pair bonded without getting married. It's all chemical, after all. Brain chemistry.”

“I was an officer, not a biologist.”

“Don't you guys learn that kind of stuff in school, though?”

“No. We learn military history. Mathematics. Physics. Asari culture. Things like that.”

“Mmh. Human schooling is pretty broad-spectrum. He has kids.”

“Hmm?”

“The Admiral. He has kids. And a wife. I requested that I get to be the one to tell them.”

“Why would you do that, Shepard? You're not his commanding officer.”

She lifted the bottle from the floor and tried to take a sip. It was difficult from her current position, but lifting her shoulders and craning her neck she managed to get a little before flopping back down again. “Because it's my fault.”

He sighed in her ear. “No, it's not.”

“They kidnapped and murdered him because he sent _me_ that information, Garrus.”

“It's not your fault,” he repeated comfortingly, but she didn't want comfort.

“Ah, but Garrus, the brain chemistry is telling me otherwise. You cannot fool the brain chemistry. It's _science_.”

“The brain chemistry is currently being soaked in alcohol, Shepard. Maybe you should lay off the bottle and get some sleep.”

“Fight me.”

His voice turned exasperated. “Yeah, no, not going through that again. Faith. Put the bottle away.”

“Mmmmmh,” she denied in a groan, rolling onto her side. “I'm trying to _cope_ over here, Vakarian!”

“I can't believe you've got me saying this, because I'm usually the guy angrily getting drunk at the corner of the bar after a bad day, but no. You are not coping.”

“Way to be a cop stereotype, Garrus. I don't-” She stalled, wondering if this was another of the things she shouldn't say. Facilitating getting over the crush made talking complicated. Not that it would stop her- and that wasn't just because of the alcohol. It was the alcohol tipping the scales in her head.

“Faith?”

“I don't let people see me like this. Ever.” She hoped he knew what that meant, and when he spoke again, she knew he did.

“Thanks for trusting me.”

“I was supposed to take at least a month of leave after my last mission. Because of the trauma. I already know after we kick Saren's ass they're going to try and force me to do it again. Six months, probably. A year if I'm unlucky.”

“You gonna take it?”

“I never do, Garrus. And this time they can't _force_ me, because I'm a Spectre.” She swung to her feet, taking another swig of the bottle. Dropping it with a slosh, she wiped her hand across her chin. “I wouldn't even know what to do with a leave. I'd be bored out of my mind.”

“Never know until you try. Put the bottle away.”

Grumbling, she grabbed the cap and finally capped the vodka. Slamming it pointedly down on her desk so he'd hear, she stomped back to the bed.

“Thank you.”

“Fuck you, you terrible dinosaur,” she replied sullenly, flopping back down.

“Are you always this childish of a drunk, Shepard? I'm having a hard time taking you seriously right now.”

“Childish?! I'm three years older than you, you ass butt.”

There was a pause. “What?”

“I'm three years-”

“Not that, the insult.”

She giggled tipsily. “How did it translate?”

“Ass ass? Why is that funny?”

She kept laughing, the humor bubbling up with an odd, drunken hysteria. It spilled over her words, chest tight. “How many words for ass do Turians have?”

“How many do you _need_ , Shepard?”

Slapping both hands over her face, still laughing, she shook her head violently. “A lot of them! Ass. Butt. Booty. That's just for a nice big one, though. Tush. That's what a grandma would say, though.”

“You realize to me you're just saying the same word over and over, right? I realize humans have an obsession with their asses, but...”

Beaming with malicious glee, Shepard taunted, “don't be jealous 'cause you don't have one.”

“Oh, now you're a _mean_ drunk.”

“You're right. I'm sorry.”

“You should be.”

“Sorry that you've got no _butt,_ ” she declared with cheerful spite.

Garrus heaved a long, tired sigh, and she giggled. Actually giggled, like a dumb little kid. Shepard stalled, blinking at herself. Good lord.

Shit.

_You're supposed to stop flirting with him, idiot._

Staring at the ceiling, her sudden drop in mood was shattered by a sudden constriction in her chest, her whole body jolting in surprise. The high pitched noise escaped her before she could swallow it, her hand slapping over her mouth. Shit. Hiccups.

Fucking vodka.

“What _was_ that?”

“No- _hic_ -thing,” she said, and then closed her eyes in irritation. “Fuck. This is- _hic_ -so fucking embarr-” When she was interrupted by another hiccup, she stopped trying. Damn it.

“You're squeaking,” Garrus drawled, laughter in his voice.

“Shut up!” she demanded, trying to control her breathing. Ow. The stupid things were starting to hurt.

She fought to control herself as he chuckled. Eventually the spasms eased off, and she gave a long sigh. Scooting up to the head of the bed, she flopped down properly, throwing an arm over her face. That last swig had been a bad idea, now that it was hitting her system. Shit.

“I drank too much.”

“Do you need the doctor?”

“Not _that_ much, Garrus,” she sighed irritably.

“Well I don't know how delicate you squishy weird asari are.”

“Weird asari?!”

“Hey, I'm just saying what everyone thinks. Sexually dimorphic, funny colored asari.”

“That's very reductive and rude, Garrus,” Shepard sighed, shaking her head back and forth. “I'm so disappointed in you.”

“You called me a dinosaur. So really, we're even now.”

“No, no. Someone has to win, or there's no point. Wait, how do you know what a dinosaur is?”

“Joker said there's no point insulting me if I don't know what it means.” She could hear the smile in his voice.

“That's Joker for you. You ever wanna make him really mad?”

“Hmm?”

“Call him Jeffrey.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. Hates it,” Shepard said, with open glee. “It's not actually his first name, Jeff is, it's just that his name is sometimes used as a nickname for it.”

“I'll remember that.”

There was a pause between them, a quiet, comfortable one. It was nice. She heard him sigh, quietly. Seconds ticked by, slow and warm and too hazy. At least she wasn't dizzy.

“Thank you. You help.”

“I do what I can, Shepard.”

“No, I mean. You. You help.”

“I don't get what you're trying to say,” Garrus admitted.

“Pair bonding. I told you. It's something humans do. We find people. There's lots of different kinds of pair bonding, but...when we're pair bonded with someone, they make us better. Being around them, hugging, talking, laughing- it makes our brain produce oxytocin, dopamine. Other stuff I forget.”

“Oh, I didn't know that was what it meant. Yeah, us too. Except we usually just call it friendship.”

“It's friendship and science, Garrus. Friendship science.”

He laughed quietly. “Okay.”

Shepard smiled to herself, a little melancholy still, but free of that crushing frustration and anger. Gentle waves, not rough seas. Everything seemed to get a little easier with Garrus at her back. Conquerable.

“You make me better,” she admitted quietly.

He laughed, but she couldn't tell if there was any humor in it or not. Her brain wasn't processing well right now anyways. She could feel herself getting sleepy.

“You make me better in a lot of ways, Shepard, so I guess that makes two of us.”

Something in his quiet voice flustered her, her cheeks turning bright pink. She could _feel_ the heat. It was more than flirting, and probably a lot more ill-advised. It was _sentiment._ Maybe. Or she was making it up in her head.

Was she?

“I don't...know about that.”

“I do. I'm lucky I fell in with you. Good night.”

She was left trying to identify what had just happened when the call ended unceremoniously, leaving her staring at the ceiling. The vodka insisted that had been weird. The vodka was also a bit of a liar, so she wasn't sure that she should believe it.

But he hadn't given her time to say goodbye.

“Goodnight, Garrus,” Shepard told her empty room, and then closed her eyes and tried to escape from reality and complicated feelings into sleep.

It worked, eventually.

Unfortunately all the complications were still there waiting for her when she woke, and so were the feelings.

Feelings she couldn't seem to get rid of.

The mood on the ship relaxed when the shore party returned from the Cerberus base.

Garrus knew his did.

It was a new, frustrating, and incredibly unexpected emotion that he wasn't sure how to handle. It hadn't ever been a problem for him before. Not in the military, or with any of his friends who still served. Not in C-Sec, when the other officers he got along with were on dangerous cases- not even with his father when he'd been small.

He'd never felt anything like this for someone before.

_Worry._

When it had happened the first time, he'd dismissed it as being frustrated at being left behind when he wanted to be fighting at Shepard's back. Except when he heard her shout his name, the feeling that had washed over him had definitely been relief. A lot of it.

And then it had happened again with the Cerberus assault on Binthu.

And again, now.

He _really_ didn't like it.

There wasn't a good way to broach it, or even talk about it. He'd thought about it when they'd been talking, but with Shepard drunk and him nervous it seemed like a bad time- especially with all the stuff she'd been talking about.

It'd gotten strangely intimate.

He intercepted her at her locker, and she glanced sidelong at him with a brief, tense smile before going back to looking over her weapons as she put them away. “It's over,” she said simply, grim but pleased. “There's more of them out there, but that nasty shit...it's over. At least no one got badly wounded this time. Liara okay?”

“She's up and moving. Was concerned she worried you.”

“I'll talk to her soon.”

“Speaking of talking...” he segued, in the clumsiest attempt of all time.

_Smooth, Vakarian._

“Always and any time, you know that,” she said briskly. “What's up?”

While he was trying to think of something more graceful than 'you have to take me next time', Joker's voice sounded out.

“Commander, Council on the comms.”

“Ah, fuck,” Shepard sighed, holding up a finger to him. “I'll be right there, Joker.” Stepping back and letting her locker slide closed, she gestured to him. “Come on.”

“You sure?” he asked, but fell into step immediately anyways.

“What, like it's top secret? Blah blah blah, Shepard go here, do this this, and then Sparatus will make some sort of sarcastic comment about humans.”

“You know, Sparatus is considered one of the finest politicians we have,” he remarked, and then chuckled at her eye roll.  
“The guy could give me a fucking break.”

“Giving people a fucking break is not considered good turian politics, Shepard.”

“Obviously!” she sighed, throwing up her hands. They entered the elevator together, naturally putting distance between each other, both facing the door. It almost came naturally by now.

It was unfortunate that was true.

He followed her into the comm room without thinking about it, not really listening as she spoke to the Council. Garrus stayed by the door, keeping space between them. He was wrapped up in his head. There had to be a way to make it sound not about him and not strange. A way to say it without admitting what he was feeling.

He didn't want to lie to Shepard, but he didn't want to tell her that part of it when he didn't even have a good grip on it himself.

When the call ended, he snapped to, realizing he hadn't heard a word of it.

“Virmire...I don't know anything about it. Do you?”

Garrus wracked his brain. “Maybe? Sounds familiar at least. Frontier, maybe?”

“Hmm. I'll do a little research on our way. Kind of stinks that a vague message about Saren is what we're chasing after, but I'd take a ghost at this fucking point,” Shepard said, rolling her shoulders, arms tightly crossed. She didn't look pleased. “Is this personal or business?”

“What I need to talk about?” She nodded, and he forced himself to say, “business. A little. Nothing much, really.”

“Okay, shoot,” she encouraged, expression easing a little when he cleared his throat and glanced down. “Garrus, it can't be that bad. Come on, what's going on?”

“I want to go on the next mission.”

_And every single one after that._

He left that part out.

“Oh. Ah, yeah, absolutely,” she agreed, blinking. “Did you think I'd say no?”

“A little bit, after...” His mind just threw words out there, trying to say something that'd make it make sense. “After how I acted on our last mission together, I didn't want to assume that you felt comfortable with me being at your back.”

Her face instantly softened, and he felt guilt for the lie when she hastened to say, “oh, Garrus, no. Listen. We've talked it out. Both of us screwed up, okay? It's not like that, I just needed a little space, that's all. Just had to fix my head, get it straight.”

“And it's straight now,” he surmised, getting enough of what she meant to understand.

“Yeah. I don't want to lose your friendship over something so small and stupid.”

He pretended that didn't bother him to hear. “Great. That was all.”

She moved as if she was going to slap him on the arm, and then stopped herself. He pretended that didn't bother him either. Instead, she nodded. “Awesome. If it's geth, I want Tali, so having you with me would be good. I'm going to go eat and then stretch these kinks out of my system after I handle this new trip. They had biotics, I got flung around a bit.” She moved for the door, and he quickly backed through it so she didn't have to go around him. She flashed him a grateful smile, moving towards the CIC.

“Message from the Shadow Broker, Commander,” Pressley said as she approached.

“The Shadow Broker can eat my ass, he's not getting a damn thing,” Shepard replied mildly. “Find me Virmire, Navigator.”

“Aye aye, ma'am.”

Tearing his eyes away from her, Garrus left the bridge.

That had been fairly painless, but unfortunately it was also not telling her the truth. But this didn't feel like something he should be honest about. At least not to daytime Shepard. It was different at night, when it was only them and they were talking, and she had that drowsy, comfortable voice that made him smile. It made everything easier.

Too easy.

Unfortunately, when he went to bed he couldn't think of a good excuse to call her. He laid there in bed, staring at the dumb little game waiting for her to come online. To give him the excuse he wanted. He answered the kid's fifty messages, waiting for Shepard's name to light up.

It never did.

She'd said he could talk to her 'always and any time', but that didn't really mean calling her for no reason. Just to talk. Right? Or had it? They were friends, friends talked, so he should call her. Right? Or should he? No.

He needed a reason, or it would be weird. He just couldn't think of any. 

And so, lacking an excuse, Garrus did something he'd never done before in his life. He gave up. Turning off his omni-tool, he did his best to go to sleep.

It was harder to do without her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 a bit of monday something nice for you before....
> 
> take your bets :P who will it be to go in the virmire throwdown?


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ \m/ ](https://open.spotify.com/track/4DMKwE2E2iYDKY01C335Uw)

A bare half hour of flexibility exercises and light gymnastics wasn't enough of a warmup for Shepard's taste, but she didn't want to exhaust herself not knowing what they were getting into on Virmire.

She took her dailies, ate her bars, checked in on Liara, did all the things a good soldier should do, and then swung up to the bridge close to their ETA. By now remembering people's names didn't take any effort, every face familiar. Everyone working well together.

After greeting Pressley she sauntered up the aisle. Virmire was just coming into view, a gorgeously blue and green world, its edge glowing with a halo of light. Shame about all the pirates. It really looked like a great place.

“Commander, I'm reading a signal. Must be our Salarian infiltration team.”

“Great, let's get in there and figure out what's going on,” Shepard said, leaning against his seat.

“Taking her down.”

She watched as they broke atmo, enjoying the view as always. This was a particularly nice one, becoming more so as they zeroed in on the signal and got closer. Things slowly clarified, taking on detail, and-

“Hold on. Check out those defense towers.” Kaidan said.

Shepard cursed. “Shit. You're right, we can't land there. We don't know _who_ the hell they belong to.”

“I can get you in under their radar, Shepard,” Joker said confidently.

“You ding my ship you pay for the body shop.”

“Excuse me? Who do you think you're talking to here?” Joker asked, offended. “I said I can, and that means I can.”

There was a moment there where their eyes met, and she knew what was coming. She grinned broadly, and it got her a hint of a smile from him before he went back to focusing on what he was doing. Oh yeah.

Oh _hell_ yeah.

“Joker,” she drawled with pleased surprised. “Are you gonna give me a drop and roll?”

“You kidding? We never get to do this, of course I am. Let's do it.”

“This is why you're my favorite, Joker. Finally, I get to test out that sound system Tali put in the Mako,” Shepard said, pushing up off of the chair. “I'll call you as soon as we're ready to go.”

“Don't you dare go subjecting people to your fucking horrible taste in music, Shepard! You're going to send them screaming.”

“Is it really _that_ bad?” Kaidan asked.

“Yes.”

“No,” Shepard interjected with a sigh, rolling her eyes and turning on her heel.

“Of course you'd say that! It's _your_ shitty taste!” Joker shouted after her.

“No respect for the classics,” Shepard muttered, stomping for the elevator, setting up another call. “Tali! Tell me you two are ready!”

“Are we not landing, Shepard?”

“Defense towers! Get in the Mako, you're about to witness a move a turian LT once called 'fucking stupid'! It's gonna be fun!”

“Oh, great. Tali out.”

On her way down, she did the once-over. Epi-pen in its pocket. Emergency steroid shot. The even more emergency pills that the doc hadn't liked refilling for her after Noveria. Omi-tool full on medi-gel and omni-gel. Everything seemed pretty together.

This wasn't her ideal armor, but she had to admit it had more coverage than her damaged suit. Just heavier. Not as heavy as a full hardsuit would be, but still.

Flipping through her carefully curated playlists, she stepped out and into the hallway, passing by people leaving the garage area. She accepted the claps on her shoulder and the greetings with a confident smile. Feeling good.

In control.

Garrus and Tali were outside of the Mako when she swung down to head for her loadout locker. She could feel their eyes tracking her. Shepard had to hide a smile, pulling out her helmet and settling it on, feeling it seal and the filtering system start.

As she loaded up on her guns, a shoulder hit the locker next to her. Heavily. Glancing up and sidelong, tilting her head, she watched the once-over.

“Garrus?”

“Good, you got rid of the damaged armor.”

“Don't nanny me, Vakarian,” she scoffed, checking over her pistols before settling it at her hip. She still hadn't found anything to beat the pretty modified Brawler. “I've got a mom and she's way less pointy.”

“Why did Tali say 'Shepard is going to kill us'?”

Why did everything change the instant they were in armor? It was Feros all over again. Comfortable and warm and charged with adrenaline- she could _feel_ the way her body language toward him changed. Champagne, not tap water. She half-turned and shoved a palm against his armored chest, shoving him back a half-step.

It wasn't just her, the arms-crossed, casually slumped against the locker thing next to her was a lean in and not away. Also pretty sexy. Damn it. Now was definitely not the time to be getting horny.

“Because she's not feeling adventurous. How adventurous are you, Garrus?” And, because of where her brain was at, it slipped out as a flirt.

She should have probably been relieved he let it pass without escalation for once. “I was thinking I would drive.”

“I was thinking you don't get to,” she countered, laughing as she checked her rifle over. “Joker and I have practiced this move dozens of times. We sort of thought it up once in base hospital and then figured out a way to, well...figure it out once we were both cleared.”

“What does it _involve_?”

She jabbed his very armored chest with a finger. “Are you questioning my orders?”

His voice was slow and easy, too playful for offense. “Never. Just your sanity, Shepard.”

“Drop and roll, minus the stop. Dropping a Mako directly out of a moving ship is jarring, even with the extensive shock system and seats it can cause some issues. Rattled brains, spines, all that nasty stuff.” His finger was tapping his arm, and it was such an oddly familiar gesture that she was smiling despite herself. He was processing. “But _driving_ out of a moving ship mitigates that if the angle is correct.”

“That's a hard thing to calculate. You do it wrong, you drop it too hard, or skim the top of the vehicle on pull-up.”

“Joker's the best, Garrus.”

“That's a lot of momentum for a Mako. Like a mass-propelled slug out of a gun.”

“I'm also _real_ good,” she said with a curl of her lip, humor in her voice. “You might not like the method to my madness, but you've gotta respect the skill, Vakarian. You've seen me eat excessive momentum before.”

“You don't _drift_ a Mako, Shepard. It overturns faster than a Sur'Kesh bite-beetle.”

“I. Do.” She thumped her fist against his chest, and used it to push herself up, locker sliding closed. “C'mon, Garrus. You know I show you all the best fun.”

“I'm here because I want to die,” he said, but she could hear the mocking note in his voice. When she punched his shoulder again, he turned to follow her to the Mako. At her back.

Tali straightened up as they approached. Her eyes narrowed behind her helmet. “Shepard?”

“Joker's going to dip under radar to drop the Mako, which will be moving, at an angle where we land and the Normandy doesn't stop, because the defense towers will lock on and fire if it doesn't. Questions?”

Tali took a moment, straightening up. “No, that makes perfect sense, Shepard. Provided it's done properly.”

“See?!” Shepard snapped back at Garrus, slinging around for the driver's side.

“Tali,” Garrus said, disappointed.

“I've never been on your side, Garrus. You're going to have to get used to it.”

They all laughed. As they moved to sling into the vehicle, Tali raised a hand at her and Shepard paused. Curiously she tilted her head, staring at Tali across the hood of the Mako. She didn't speak until Garrus' door closed.

“Shepard.”

“Tali?”

“When I came here, originally, I had a purpose. To study, and follow the geth.”

“Yeah,” Shepard said easily.

“I have fulfilled that purpose. And I'm still here. Because of you, Shepard. I'm here because of you. Obviously Saren is important and I want to see this through, but I wanted you to know...it's not because of the mission. It's because of you.”

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, emotion tightening her voice. She cleared her throat, but it didn't do much. “Well shit, I guess I better not get you killed.”

“That would be appreciated,” Tali said, finally getting into the back of the Mako.

Shepard took a second, glancing down at her omni-tool. Shit. Well, this drop deserved a suitably epic soundtrack. She finally picked the song, cued it up, and then slung in.

The door closed, and her finger hovered over the button to link her omni-tool to the Mako, but there were other things to consider.

Dramatic timing.

“Joker, we're in.”

“Looping around now, Commander. ETA a minute twenty.”

“Keep me updated.”

“What's going on here?” Garrus asked, nodding at her omni-tool.

“A soundtrack, Garrus. I just have to time it properly,” she said, serious as death. “If the beat hits, so do I. Are you ready to have your mind blown?”

“No. Unlike you, I use mine.”

“Ugh. It's going to be _amazing_ , Garrus. You just don't understand yet. But you will.”

Joker counted down in their ears.

Sixty.

Fourty five.

Thirty.

Twenty.

She started revving the engine. At fifteen seconds precisely she started the song. Fifteen seconds later the floor dropped out beneath them as the guitar riff started, and they shot out through the bottom of the Normandy.

The music soared, her senses heightened. She ignored Tali clutching the back of the seats, Garrus' tension as they rocketed off the end of the ship's short ramp. Into open air.

All Shepard had to do was land.

It all linked together, her muscles reacting to the music, to the sway and tilt to the Mako. The beast wanted to tip. It was desperate to. The instant wheels hit ground it was trying to, but no.

The Normandy rocketed overhead, the backwash of the ship anticipated and expected.

Rocking in time to the music, she adjusted as they slammed into the ground, everyone whipped around as things started spinning. Water flew up around them like a veil as the Mako fought for purchase in the low pond, tires skidding. She was in control.

It was fuckin' glorious.

When the Mako finished its sixth revolution with a cascade of water and came to a bouncing stop, she lifted both hands as high as they would go.

Victory.

“Fuck YEAH!”

“That was amazing, Shepard!” Tali said.

“Don't encourage her,” Garrus sighed.

“If I had a dick it would be so _hard_ right now,” Shepard said gleefully.

Tali giggled and Garrus gave a faint groan, splaying a hand over the front of his helmet as he shook his head. She took pity on them and took the music down a scant two notches.

“We're clear, Commander. No dings on your baby yet.”

“Great, Joker. Keep with the evasive maneuvers while I see what I can do about that gun. Stand by.”

“Heavy geth activity,” Tali remarked from the back.

“Not for long. You ready to shoot, Cowboy?” she asked, blindly reaching over and offering her fist.

“Always. What are you doing?”

“Fistbump me, Garrus!”

“Another hand gesture thing?”

“Yes, another one! Acknowledge how cool that was!” She turned her head and glared at him.

He finally chuckled, curling his hand into a fist and extending it. Shepard beamed, bumping her fist into his, pleased. Damn right.

“It was very cool, Trouble.”

“Goddamn right,” she said, highly pleased.

Revving the engine again in time to the music, she stopped grandstanding.

It was time to get to work.

Shepard's driving didn't get _better_ with music, but it did get more enjoyable.

He wasn't sure why Joker complained about her taste in music, because so far he was enjoying it. Also enjoying how much that delighted her. Sure, it was unrefined, aggressive, and apparently very, very old, but it was new to him. 

Even if he hadn't liked it, he would have shown an interest- it made her so happy.

“So who was that?”

“Danzig! This is AC/DC. You're not going to find this stuff on the extranet, though. I inherited my granddad's collection. Hang on, this angle isn't working for getting those shields down. Tali?”

“Still jammed, Shepard!”

He lost his aim as the Mako shifted, but he tracked easily enough once he figured out what she was doing. Finding the gap in the shields again, he finally managed to down the one that had been firing rockets at them, leaving the rest vulnerable.

“We're clear!”

“Good, let's get to that fucking thing turned off,” Shepard said, gunning it. The Mako surged into the corridor between two walls of sheer rock, splashing through another section of shallow water. “Man, this place is pretty.”

“Looking for a vacation home, Shepard?” Tali asked teasingly.

“Yeah, sure, for all those vacations I love to take. Definitely a girl that likes to take it easy, right here.”

Garrus chuckled, keeping sight on the way ahead. So many active geth meant something was happening, which meant they were on the right track. Hopefully finally they were catching up with the bastard. He knew it bothered them both.

They'd find him; Saren had more to answer for by the day.

Reaching the end of the line at last, the Mako swung around in one of Shepard's favorite too-fast turns and came to a standstill. While he picked off the geth lingering outside the facility housing the controls for the AA gun, Shepard and Tali swung out to lend a hand from the ground. It didn't take them long, though the Mako took another rocket hit.

Better not have damaged the new plating.

When the last one went down he swung out himself to check the plating, running his hand over the scorch mark on the Mako's side. Some slight denting, but-

“Stop fussing! We've got shit to do!” Shepard called, already on her way towards the stairs that led to the facility above the closed gates.

“I just got this thing fixed, sorry if I want to make sure it didn't get damaged again!” he called back, hustling to catch up with them.

“Oh my god, Garrus! I only _slightly_ melted it!”

He was about to respond when he saw Shepard duck and raise her gun halfway up the stairs. Slinging off his rifle, Garrus dived back into the fray. It was as effortless as it always was. They were a well-oiled machine by now.

The unwelcome, uncomfortable emotion was gone now, even with them in the thick of it. No worrying about Shepard now. Not when he could be at her back, hearing her victorious, mocking shouts as they bantered and joked their way through danger.

If only they could have this without...everything else.

No point thinking about it.

Shepard was still being fairly reckless, always at the front, surging forward instead of assessing, shouting orders belatedly. He could anticipate her, though, and he kept firmly at her six. He couldn't say she was sloppy- he only saw her get hit once or twice, but he also couldn't claim she was being as careful as he knew she should be.

It didn't matter. He was there, and he'd keep her safe.

When the last of the geth fell, he saw Shepard jolt forward to Tali, and he followed without thinking. She was clutching her upper arm, fumbling in a pouch. When she glanced up and saw them approaching, she demandingly held up a hand, stalling them both.

“Stay back! Please!” Tali said, and then lowered her voice, cursing.

“Okay, okay,” Shepard said, stepping back to his side. “Talk to me, Tali.”

“Interior suit breach. Normally it would isolate and seal itself, but it must have a backup system failure or something's damaged,” Tali said. “I'm fine, just a burn and the medi-gel has already been applied, but the suit breach-”

“What do you need?” Shepard asked instantly.

“I can patch it, but it's too late, I've been exposed to the external atmosphere. Hopefully I'll just get a little sick, but-” Tali sighed. “Keelah. This is a really bad time.”

“Okay. Patch up and we'll get this gun turned off. Once the ship lands I want you back on board immediately. Full spectrum antibiotics, whatever you need.”

“Shepard, I-”

“I wasn't asking, Tali,” Shepard said, firm but with a smile and easy understanding. She was good at that. “It was an order.”

“Yes, Shepard,” Tali said ruefully.

Shepard slapped him on the arm and tilted her head, and they finished crossing the walkway. What of her profile he could see in the helmet was focused and intent. When he nudged her shoulder with his upper arm she gave a half-smile, but there wasn't much humor in it.

“She'll be all right.”

“I'm not being paranoid,” she said mildly. “After what happened to Liara, I just won't risk it.”

“Just remember we all signed up for the risks, Shepard.”

“I try,” she said simply. When they entered the room, her face flooded with relief, and she gave a sigh, picking up to double-time to a console. “Gun controls. What's the other one there?”

He crossed the room, accessing the console. “Gate. Opening now.”

“Guns offline.”

Joker's voice crackled to life from Shepard's comms. “I'm reading that the grid is offline, Commander. On approach to the salarian base now.”

“Tell Wrex to get armed and ready to go.”

“Aye aye, ma'am. Out.”

As he pushed back and moved to join Shepard, Tali entered. He could tell she was frustrated from the way she was walking- he didn't blame her, and he certainly didn't blame Shepard. But...

“Damn it,” he cursed at his sudden revelation.

“What?” Shepard asked, gesturing them out. “Back to the Mako.”

“If Tali goes back to the ship now, she's winning.”

“Oh, damn it,” Shepard complained.

He saw Tali relax. “Well, at least something good came out of it. And I'm going to win the bet I placed with Joker!”

Shepard reached up and pressed her hands to her helmet where her ears were. “I cannot hear things about people gambling on my ship against regulations!”

“Oops,” Tali said cheerfully.

“Wait, why do we do this, then, if gambling is against Alliance regs?” Garrus asked.

“Gambling comes with the implication of 'money', Garrus. We don't bet money. If you bend the rules hard enough, you always find a loophole!” Shepard said smugly. “Plus? Not on the ship right now. Double loophole.”

“So do you follow Alliance regs only so you can feel clever finding ways around them?”

Shepard cackled, drawing her weapon again. “I don't _feel_ clever, Vakarian, I am clever. Clever and charming and oh so pretty. Regs exist for a reason, though. I follow the ones I agree are important, and bend the ones that people feel good breaking- breaking the rules a little can be good for morale. Ship-wide and personal.”

They paced back through the facility, on alert, but it seemed they'd cleared out all of the geth. Small favors. He was getting pretty good at taking them out, but they were definitely more complicated than fighting flesh and blood. And sturdier.

But easier to predict and anticipate, so maybe it evened out.

“Are-” Tali paused. “This question is a little rude, but I feel like you wouldn't be offended, Shepard.”

“Then ask away!”

“Are you considered physically attractive by human standards? I think you're pretty, but I realize my metric might be different than another human's would.”

Garrus cleared his throat awkwardly, shifting his gaze to the outside as they crossed the front of the facility for the staircase. He was definitely not going to weigh in on this conversation.

“Well, gosh. Some things seem pretty universal. Things like facial symmetry, for example. I think all races find that attractive, don't they?”

“That seems to be true,” Tali agreed.

“And of course personality plays a big part, and that's universal, too.”

“Well, yes, but I did say physically.”

“There's a saying. An ugly personality makes an ugly person. Physical attraction- at least for us, is definitely partially defined by personality. It's brain chemistry, Tali!”

“Here we go again,” he remarked under his breath, and he knew Shepard had heard him when she laughed faintly.

“But yeah I agree that 'see her across a bar' sort of thing doesn't take personality into account. Instant physical attraction is partly preference-based, though. So some people might not find me attractive. Preference-wise. But I take care of my body, my face is...I guess, conventionally attractive- who knew this would make me a little uncomfortable?”

“Sorry,” Tali apologized.

They all got into the Mako, doors sliding closed with a soft hiss of hydraulics. Once they were sealed inside, Shepard turned the music back on, lower this time. When he hazarded a glance at her, she was smiling.

“It's fine, I just never thought I was a modest person. This is a revelation. Um, let's see. I guess overall you could say I'm attractive. I've been told I have a very attractive mouth. My nose is within normal parameters. Chin and jaw are well-shaped for a feminine presenting person.” It was a little funny how awkward her voice got. “I'm fairly symmetrical, but definitely not perfectly. Always wished I had green eyes, though, like my mom. They're extremely rare in humans, and they run with the same genes that gave me the freckles and red hair.”

“I think you have very pretty eyes,” Tali said, and privately he agreed.

Dark, soft, and warm, Shepard's eyes reminded him of chocolate. Admittedly, he had a preference there, being that chocolate was his favorite. And so was she.

“Well uh, thank you, Tali. That's actually even more of a compliment coming from a Quarian. You guys have gorgeous eyes.”

“Oh,” Tali said, flustered. “Thank you, Shepard.”

He had to hide a smile. Shepard sure had a way of doing that to people. 

“Anyways yeah, I guess it would be false modesty to be like 'eh I'm not' but also it feels weird to go 'hell yeah, I'm hot'.”

“I'm surprised the first thing you didn't mention was your ass,” he finally said, unable to let the opportunity to tease go by completely.

“Oh, now he speaks,” Shepard quipped.

“I didn't want to interrupt your flirting.”

“I wasn't flirting!” Tali protested, embarrassed.

“Oh, I definitely was,” Shepard said cheerfully, laughter in the words. “But I'm a flirt. And the reason I didn't mention my ass, _Garrus_ , is that it was a given. My ass is incredible. I don't do squats because I enjoy them, that's for sure.”

“I don't think anyone enjoys squats.”

“Masochists,” Shepard joked lazily, and then turned up the music a notch. “Looks like we've got one last gate to get through before the base, people. Geth!”

“Maybe we'll have a chance to even the score,” he said hopefully, turning his attention to the gun.

“You can _try_ ,” Tali said arrogantly.

“Oh, that sounds like a fucking challenge right there,” Shepard said, grinning to herself. The Mako jolted forward as she floored it, throwing off his aiming entirely as he tried to get a bead on the geth on the second floor of the gatehouse.

“Shepard!”

“Boots on the ground, Garrus, boots on the ground!” she replied cheerfully. “More numbers means more chances to get the lead!”

He wasn't about to argue with her choices, especially not on the field, but as the Mako came to a precariously fast halt outside the gatehouse he was swinging out immediately before Shepard could get out ahead of him. Couldn't lose sight of her. Whittling down their numbers from the Mako would have been much safer. A lot of things she was doing could have been much safer.

Hell, even him being on the ship wasn't safe for her.

Maybe he _should_ be worried about her.

But thinking about it meant he'd have to face how damn selfish he was being- Garrus wasn't ready for that yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope USA pals had a good holiday yesterday! :D


	22. Chapter 22

Shepard really hated this genophage shit.

She'd done some studying on it, and got the how when why, but as an outsider with friends on both sides it seemed like a fucking mess. She shouldn't blame Captain Kirrahe for his opinion on the matter, but damn it he should have kept his mouth shut. She knew how the fucking Salarians felt about it. She didn't need her krogan teammate being riled up about it just because he had to give his goddamn opinion.

Waving off Ashley and Kaidan's concerns was easy; they were Alliance. What she said went. Unfortunately, they weren't the only ones there.

Garrus caught Shepard by the elbow as she turned away to go after Wrex- it was an unexpected, and very public touch, but she wasn't going to shake him off in front of people.

Instead, she paused, and then tilted her head lightly in a beckon. They both walked away from Kaidan and Ashley, but she could feel them watching. Didn't matter. This situation was too dire for her to be worrying about what people thought about her and Garrus right now- they'd possibly, finally found the bastard.

“Let me set up somewhere discreet,” he said, hand still on her elbow.

“Absolutely not!” she retorted, frustration rising. “I will not having you overlooking my conversation with a fucking sniper rifle, Garrus!”

“I like the guy, too, Shepard, but Wrex is volatile right now. Don't take unnecessary risks.”

“I'm telling you what I told them. I trust him. Don't you trust me?” she asked simply.

Garrus sighed, heavily, head dropping. “Don't make it about that.”

“I have to right now. This is one of those moments that _matters_ , Garrus. Like with you and Saleon, this is one of those choices. I have to trust him, and I need you following orders, please. The answer is no.”

“I wish I knew why you're being so reckless.”

Shepard stalled, staring at him with a frown on her face. Reckless? Her conversation with Amanda came to mind, how unlike her it was to put herself in pointless danger. Unprecedented stress...

Things she hadn't dealt with, talked about- except when Amanda had cleared her to go on the shakedown cruise that had started all of this.

And then she'd buried it down deep because the world was in danger.

Stress on stress on stress.

She'd never even told Amanda about losing Jenkins- or even really thought about it since it'd happened. Pushed down. Pushed aside. Keep going.

“I guess I do seem a little bit like a ticking time bomb right now, Garrus, but now isn't the time. Saren might be _here_. We might _have_ him. I know you know what that means.”

He leaned in a little closer, voice earnest. “And I want to get Saren _with_ you. So don't get yourself killed now.”

They were standing too close for casual, but she didn't care right now. It was safe. She reached up and clasped his shoulder opposite his hand, which moved up to clasp her bicep. His eyes were focused on hers. Stunningly blue.

Not that she would have ever complimented him on them in front of Tali.

“I won't. Trust me.”

“I do.”

“Good. And I need to trust Wrex- so you're gonna stay right here and wait.”

He rolled his shoulders back and nodded, though she could tell he wasn't pleased. She clapped his shoulder one last time and stepped back, his grip on her arm releasing. Turning on a heel, she steeled herself and approached Wrex at the edge of the water. He had his gun out, taking shots.

She didn't like that much.

“Wrex!”

Luckily the gun dropped as he turned towards her, one red eye fixing on her steadily. “This isn't right, Shepard. If there's a cure for the genophage, we can't destroy it.”

“I don't like how he spoke to you, either, but Captain Kirrahe isn't the enemy. Saren is. If we want to stop him, we need to be working together,” she said evenly, folding her arms.

“Really? Saren created a cure for my people. You want to destroy it. Help me out here, Shepard. The lines between friend and foe are getting a little blurry from where I stand.”

It was a genuine, if brusque plea, and she appreciated that he'd made it.

Wrex was right. From where he stood, it must feel like he was going against his own people. If it was a cure. If it wasn't _Saren_. But it was. All the little details made a world of difference.

“You think anyone's going to be allowed to benefit from this if we let him get away with it? You're smarter than this, Wrex. We can't risk it.”

“That's a chance we should be willing to take. This is the fate of my entire people we're talking about.” Wrex leaned in towards her, and she held her position. “I've been loyal to you so far. Hell, you've done more for me than my family ever did. But if I'm going to keep following you, I need to know we're doing it for the right reasons.”

When Wrex lifted his weapon again and pointed it at her, she kept standing her ground, refusing to unfold her arms.

“I trust you. And I know you want what's best for your people, and you know this isn't it, but that _hope_...”

Wrex gave a growl of frustration and dropped the gun. She finally moved, stepping in and reaching out to clap his upper arm, ignoring any other eyes that might be on them. This was between them.

“You know what he did to Benezia, to Shiala. What he'd do to anyone who followed him. If it even is a cure, it's never going to be used for the _good_ of your people, Wrex. Saren uses people. Discards them. Treats them like tools.”

“The Council neutered us all for wiping out the rachni. I doubt Saren will be as generous,” Wrex said, frustration in every syllable.

“Yeah, it seems like his pension plan's even worse, if possible.”

Wrex gave a small hmph. “You've made your point, Shepard. I don't like it, but I trust you.”

She clapped his arm and stood back, smiling evenly instead of grinning the way she wanted to. It was a warm feeling, despite the situation. Hell, if she could get Wrex to trust her, she could do anything.

“Just one thing,” Wrex said, and she paused. “When we find Saren, I want his head.”

Shepard smiled. “Sure, as soon as I finish removing it, it's yours.”

“Great. Do me a favor and tell your turian boytoy to stop glaring at me.”

Shepard's brain flipped a breaker. Blank, utterly and profoundly blank. By the time she managed to formulate a thought, it was just a sputtering, laughing, “what?!”

The word was directed at Wrex's back, as he was already walking away.

It wasn't just the sentiment, she knew people talked about them and she could handle a little gossip. It was the wording. Jesus. Shaking her head, she paced back toward the Salarian camp.

When Garrus caught up, she pushed down her own embarrassment and gave him a side-eye until he cracked.

Garrus sighed. “He pulled a gun on you.”

“He was just making a point,” Shepard said, rolling her eyes. “Wrex isn't going to shoot me. Are you gonna stand there and glare at people every time I have a conversation?”

“If they have a gun on you?”

“People constantly pull guns on me, Garrus! And then they learn what a sweet, charming person I am, and they stop shooting at me. Wrex is our friend.”

“And that's why he doesn't have a hole in his head right now.”

“I appreciate your forbearance,” she said sarcastically, and then chuckled. “If I didn't know better I'd think you were being protective, Vakarian.”

“You're going to have to deal with it right now,” he said instead of denying it.

Pleased and annoyed at the same time, she breathed out a sigh through her nose. “I suppose I deserve that _right now_ ,” she said, leaning on the words. “Just keep it easy with Wrex, we've probably got a long fight in front of us. And on that note, I'm going to talk to Captain Kirrahe.”

“Normally I wouldn't think much of salarians in a fire fight, but these soldiers seem well-trained,” Garrus remarked as they stopped outside of the building.

“I'm impressed. Less impressed with the riling up my people, but,” she tipped her head to the side, and shrugged. “I'm sure their tactics are sound, though. I've never met a salarian without a solid plan.”

“And a plan for when that plan fails, and all the contingencies,” Garrus agreed, glancing past her shoulder. “Let's hope it's a good one. This _has_ to go right.”

“It will,” Shepard said confidently. “I've got this. We're gonna get his ass and save the day. Just like we always do.”

Slapping his arm, she went to go discuss the situation with Kirrahe.

“This is bullshit,” Ashley groused, crossing her arms.

Garrus glanced at her, trying not to smile at the sulk. “You pissed at Shepard?”

“Not pissed,” she said with a long sigh, shoulders lifting in a tight shrug. “I get it, he outranks me. But I wanted to prove to her that I could do it, that I'm not some xenophobic asshole, you know? That I could lead the salarian squad without bias.”

They watched Shepard and Kaidan speaking, and Garrus reached over and nudged her shoulder lightly. Ashley scowled, but didn't flinch away. That was nice.

“You'll get your chance, Williams. Besides, Shepard already knows. She's got a finger on the ship's pulse.”

“I know. I still feel like I have something to prove, though. I don't know what, but I do.”

“I get that,” Garrus said with a nod.

“You okay with this? You know her tapping him for this mission is just gonna give him more ideas about the Commander,” Ashley said, a little sly.

“Don't you start,” Garrus sighed, swaying exaggeratedly as she elbowed at him. The guy had been laying off the glaring and getting between them, and he had extended a hand when he'd asked Garrus to keep an eye on Shepard, but... “Kaidan can think whatever he wants. It doesn't make it true.”

“You're joking, right? When you two were talking you were _not_ leaving room for the holy spirit. He was seething. 'What does she see in him?',” Ashley said, highly amused now. Great. Now that they were getting along, he learned she liked to cause trouble.

Like he needed more of it in his life.

“You should find less enjoyment in a superior officer's bad mood, Williams.”

“He should take a hint,” Ashley laughed. “I like the guy, but...she's been turning him down since the first trip to Citadel. Shep's too nice about it, though.”

“She wasn't last time,” he muttered under his breath, remembering her yelling at Kaidan in the garage. When Ashley raised an eyebrow at him, he cleared his throat. “I'm not gossiping about the Commander.”

“You're no fun.”

“I'm turian,” he said, mock-offended. “It's in my blood, Ashley.”

“Hmmh,” she said, smile fading and a tight expression replacing it.

“It's really that important to you? Did you tell her that?”

“I didn't wanna fight in front of the Captain,” she muttered. “Didn't want to make Shepard annoyed with me again.”

“You should tell-” Garrus sighed, well aware that this was just going to get Kaidan more annoyed with him. But he should stick his neck out for Ashley- she was trying. “I'll talk to her. I'll be right back.”

“You'd do that for me?”

“Maybe I just want to piss off Kaidan,” he joked, heading over for Shepard and Alenko.

His interruption was well-timed, it looked like she was on the verge of sending him off. When Garrus pulled her aside, she held up a hand to Alenko and stepped away with him. She didn't look annoyed, just curious. Kaidan looked annoyed, though.

“You wouldn't do that unless it's important.”

“I just wanted to make sure you knew it would mean a lot to Ashley if you sent her instead. She wants to prove she can do it. Wants to prove she's trying now, that she's not a xenophobe. It would mean a lot to her. I know it might be an issue of rank-” He paused as Shepard lifted two fingers, stalling him.

“No. I value your opinion, and I see your point. She's trying, you're right. We all deserve a chance to prove ourselves, and if this is hers, so be it. Thank you for coming to me with this. I should have listened to her. I made a mistake, I'll fix it,” Shepard said with easy, comfortable grace. It only made him respect her more. Her smile turned a little rueful. “Kaidan might be pissed at you, though.”

“It's your call, not mine.”

“That doesn't mean he won't know you changed my mind. I don't want things to get uncomfortable for you because of me.”

“I told you before. I don't care what anyone thinks.”

She smiled, lopsided, eyes softening behind her helmet. “Okay. Let me deal with this and we'll set out.”

“You got it.”

He turned to watch her go. If there was fallout from this, he'd be fine with dealing with it. It wasn't like the guy liked him, after all. He'd thought they were starting to work things out, but if Ashley was right, he'd been wrong.

That was frustrating.

Well, all that meant was he didn't have to play nice. Garrus wasn't going to start anything, but he wasn't going to keep the peace, either. Whatever the hell there was between him and Shepard, it was their business and nobody else's.

Definitely not Kaidan's.

Any thoughts for worrying about that mess were shelved as they headed for their mission. Shepard was grim this time, focused and thorough- he got it, there were others depending on them. Not a single geth got by them as they made for Saren's base. Nor Krogan.

She did try to talk them down, he'd noticed, but if there was negotiations to be had, it wasn't with them.

They cut their way through with a brutal precision that seemed different than normal- he didn't think he'd fought with her and Wrex together lately, and he could see how they fit together now, as easily as he did with her. He followed her orders without complaint, but she also listened to him. Maybe because they both fought on the front line. It was always enjoyable to watch Shepard fight, regardless of who it was with, but he liked seeing how she adapted to other people.

The kill-count was pretty even, but Wrex was narrowly edging them both out when they made their way down to what seemed to be a back entrance.

“I've got the lock,” he said when the door denied them entry, passing by them both to decrypt it.

“Thanks, Garrus,” Shepard said, “hopefully we got down all of those flyers. We need to make sure we gave the squads a fighting chance.”

“I didn't see any get by,” Wrex said.

“I didn't either,” Garrus agreed, swiftly hacking the lock. The door slid open. “After you.”

“Kid, we both know your eyes weren't on the sky,” Wrex said in his usual monotone rasp. “When someone says you should watch their ass, they don't mean it _literally_.”

He heard Shepard laugh. Scoffing faintly, he followed Wrex through the door, ignoring his own embarrassment. “Not sure what you mean by that.”

“Uh huh,” Wrex said flatly.

There wasn't time for much more conversation- they found the other salarians.

He could tell Shepard was upset, getting more terse and frustrated with every one they had to take down. The indoctrination was nasty, and no amount of conversation or pleading could seem to stop them- they attacked regardless. When they finally found someone capable of conversation, they were all relieved.

Lieutenant Imness confirmed their guess, the captured salarians had been indoctrinated by Saren, much like Benezia had been.

Shepard sent him and the remnants of his squad out of the facility, hopefully to outrun the blast. The chatter from the other squads came rarely, but every time it did he knew it helped. They were still out there, at least for now. People were dying, but- there was still hope.

On the upper level they took down the Krogan doctor- Garrus kept an eye on Wrex as the doctor shouted about saving his species, but whatever talk Shepard had with him seemed to have worked. Wrex didn't say a thing until it was over, giving an annoyed grunt and a kick to the corpse he'd taken down.

“That's one more for me.”

“Yeah, it is,” Shepard agreed, pushing forward. “Anyone need a breather? I can't spare more than a few seconds.”

“Let's keep going,” Garrus said soberly. “We can't risk him getting away.”

“He won't,” Shepard said, grimly. “Someone has to pay for this.”

They headed outside and around a corner, taking out two geth flanking a door at the end of the walkway. Shepard got the last one, another brutal takedown with her omni-blade- as much as the close range wasn't something he was a fan of, he had to admit she'd gotten efficient with it. Severing the geth's head entirely, she dropped it on the ground, pushing up to her feet as the door slid open.

“Nice one, Shepard.”

“Thanks, Wrex, I'll-”

“Don't shoot! Please, I just want to get out of here before it's too late!” a voice shouted from inside, and he rushed to get inside behind them before the door closed. It slid shut directly behind him, and he turned his attention to an asari rising from the floor, her hands lifted defensively.

“I'm not gonna hurt you,” Shepard said easily. “You go a name for me?”

Rana Thanoptis, she turned out to be. He could tell Shepard didn't like her, though normally she would have hidden it much better. He could tell the scientist couldn't. Considering the impatience, he wasn't surprised when Shepard just told Thanoptis to make a break for it- they were low on time.

“Scummy,” she muttered under her breath as they went through the now-unlocked door for Saren's private lab.

“No disagreement here,” he said, and she snorted.

They got into the elevator, and he could see her fidgeting, lifting her fingers to her ear, and then dropping them. Obviously frustrated. “I don't know how much time we have.”

“We can't move much faster. We're running this as tight as we can, Shepard.”

Shepard blew out a sigh. “Yeah. Thanks for keeping up, you two.”

Wrex thankfully didn't take another crack at him. “We work good together.”

The elevator opened and he moved to the edge of the catwalk beyond, setting up his rifle and scanning the room through the scope. There was something glowing with greenish light, something he'd seen in vid and not real life- “Shepard, isn't that another beacon like the one on Eden Prime?”

“What?!” Shepard brushed by him, the stairs clanking as she took them two at a time. He shifted his rifle down and followed.

She held a hand back towards them as she approached it, and he paused uncertainly. She kept the hand up as she paced up to the front of the beacon. He saw the instant her fingers twitched, body stiffening, arm dropping. He surged forward, but Wrex arm-barred him across the chest, stopping him dead.

“No, kid,” Wrex said.

“Sorry if I don't trust some random Prothean artifact in Saren's lab,” he replied, stepping back when Wrex slapped his chest again.

“Yeah, and we don't know what'll happen to Shepard if we interfere, so-” Wrex went silent as Shepard was literally lifted off her feet, hovering in the air. He snorted. “Okay, yeah, that's creepy.”

They stood in uncertain silence, watching as she was held by the beacon. It only lasted seconds, but those seconds seemed to take forever. When she dropped, he moved for her side again, Wrex not stopping him.

“Shepard!”

“Shit,” she wheezed in a faint laugh, accepting his hand and swaying to her feet. She seemed steady enough, so when she shook him off he released her. “Ow. More shit in my head.”

“What is it?”

“The same vision as before,” she said, rubbing her forehead. “But complete. It's the whole thing this time.”

“That means-” He stopped short, not quite knowing how to finish it.

When Shepard spoke, wryly, he knew he wasn't alone in that. “Something. Something for later. Come on, let's find a node or console we can access.”

“Uh, something's glowing up there,” Wrex said, staring up through the mesh of the walkway above.

Garrus blinked and glanced upwards, but Shepard was already brushing past him, heading for it without a second's pause. He got impatient, but- “Faith, be careful.”

“Hell, Garrus, too late to start now.”

Sighing, he followed her.

They approached the red light, which resolved into a bizarre, insectoid figure as they approached. It spoke. It called itself Sovereign, the name of Saren's ship. At first he thought it was a VI, but as it spoke he came to the realization almost at the same time as Shepard did.

Sovereign wasn't a reaper ship- it was a reaper.

The thing spoke of a cycle of civilizations rising and falling, only to be wiped out by the reapers when they came around again. A cycle that had been happening for far longer than the Prothean extinction, if it was to be believed. He believed it.

Shepard spoke to it evenly, calmly, quizzing it almost without emotion. No attempts at manipulating this thing. She also didn't sound afraid, or respectful- just blank. The reaper was condescending and malicious, but she seemed unmoved.

When it seemed no more information was forthcoming, Shepard gave a faint sniff, shaking her head slightly. “It's just a machine. I'm not impressed.”

“Your words are as empty as your future. I am the vanguard of your destruction. This exchange is over.”

The hologram dissipated.

“Oooh, fleshy organic lifeform, your days are numbered,” Shepard said mockingly in a high-pitched voice. “Eat my entire ass, Sovereign.”

“And here I thought you liked your ass, Shepard,” he said, hoping he could hide how rattled he was in the quip. She didn't seem in the least bit phased. It helped. A lot.

Shepard shot him an impish smile. “Oh, Garrus. That is _not_ what eating ass means, it's-”

“Commander? We got trouble!” Joker's voice sounded out.

“Status,” Shepard snapped, smile immediately gone.

“That ship, Sovereign? It's moving. I don't know what you did down there, but that thing just pulled a turn that would shear any of our ships in half.”

“And here I thought we'd gotten on so well, too,” Shepard said, dry as dust.

“It's coming your way, and it's coming hard. You'd better finish up whatever you're doing there- fast!”

Shepard sighed, eyes momentarily dropping. Calculating. “Let's head to the breeding facility. Joker can pick us up after we set up the nuke.”

Falling in, they headed back out. He could see Shepard was relieved when Williams started reporting in, their back and forth as they all took out the AA guns in anticipation of the Normandy's arrival heralding their progress. It sounded like Ashley was doing well.

Garrus was glad that he'd been able to help.

It'd been a long assault, and he could tell they were all getting tired, but considering how tight they ran together, a little sloppiness hardly dented their efficiency. Shepard took a few hits he wished she hadn't, and he took some damage to his arm that would need more than medi-gel, but he didn't let it slow him down. He couldn't afford to. Faith needed him.

They met Kaidan and some of the marines offloading the bomb, getting it into place. At least now the Lieutenant was all business. No glaring, just efficiency- calm and careful. He could respect the guy, even if he didn't like him.

It seemed like everything was going all right- until Ashley called in that she and her squad were pinned down.

“I still need a minute to set this up, Commander,” Kaidan said.

“Good. Come on, let's go extract Williams,” Shepard said, not even pausing for a moment to consider it. He and Wrex followed without question.

By now he'd lost count of how many geth had gone down- he'd lost his count for Joker some time after Sovereign. The reaper had rattled him more than he'd admit. It was comforting to be following right now, letting Shepard's confidence and control carry him.

They were partway there when geth overran the bomb site.

When Kaidan made the call, he saw Shepard go still.

“I'm activating the nuke.”

“Absolutely fucking not.”

“I already have. I'm sorry. This bomb has to go off, no matter what.”

“Disobeying orders, Lieutenant?” she asked, jaw tightening.

“I thought I'd try it out once. Go get Williams and get out of here, Commander.”

“Like hell you are!” Ashley snapped across comms. “We've got this covered. Go get the Lieutenant!”

There was a flash of something across Shepard's face, her eyes wide, pupils dilating. Panic. It only lasted a second.

She froze, all the tension leaving her face. Her eyes went intent, focused. He wondered what she was thinking. Then he heard her counting under her breath.

Her eyes focused back in, and she breathed in deeply. “Williams, radio Joker and tell him to meet us at the tower. Every single wounded that you can drag on board, you do it. Every single one. If there's no wounded, I want bodies. They've got family.”

“It's the right call, Ash,” Kaidan said quietly.

“Thank you, Kaidan. Stay in my ear, okay? I'm with you. I'm with you until the end,” she promised, sounding so confident and calm that he almost didn't believe that brief look of panic.

“Yes, ma'am,” he said quietly.

Without a word to either him or Wrex, Shepard continued on. It reminded him of Noveria, the training and cold hard discipline that snapped into place when she was under stress. They fought their way to Ashley. Shepard finally abandoned her favorite pistol and pulled out the assault rifle he so rarely saw her use.

They'd finally found Ashley and the remnants of her squad, and then they were attacked.

He was ahead of her when she took the hit, staggered, and then spun to start firing back. A figure hit the ground, and then rose. Bringing his rifle around, it took him a good three seconds before he realized who it was. He was different.

It was Saren.

Rage rose, and he lifted his gun.

Shepard grabbed him by the arm and dragged them both behind cover. She slammed him into the wall, and he was in the midst of trying to free his gun when she pressed a hand into his chest. Their eyes met, helmet to helmet, and although he knew she didn't know what the gesture meant, he still felt his heart stop when their foreheads touched, separated by two layers of armor.

“No,” whispered simply, eyes boring into his.

“I applaud you, Shepard! My geth were convinced the salarians were the real threat. An impressive distraction.”

“Not yet. On my signal,” she whispered to Garrus again, and then lifted her voice. Confident, cocksure, nothing like what he saw in her face as they stared at each other. “Gosh, Saren, was that a compliment? You're slipping!”

He hated it, hated that she was holding him back, but like with the reaper, he knew exactly what she was doing. Mining for information. When she finally pulled away, back to the cover next to him, gun ready and in her hands, he did his best to focus and wait for the signal.

Saren gave a 'hmph'. “Of course, it was all for nothing. I can't let you disrupt what I have accomplished here. You can't possibly understand what's really at stake.”

She freed one hand from her gun, reaching down. His hand found hers instantly, and they clutched each other- gloves in the way. No chance of hurting her. Neither of them cared that Wrex was there next to them.

“Well, I certainly can't if you don't tell me, Saren!”

“You've seen the vision from the beacons, Shepard. You, of all people, understand what the reapers are capable of. They cannot be stopped.”

As Saren pontificated, orated, they held on to one another. Shepard stayed confident and easy, goading just enough, but he could feel the tension in her hand. There didn't seem to be much she was getting out of him, a lot of defeatist nonsense that made him angry all over again with Saren. Who the hell looked at a situation like this and thought 'we shouldn't fight back'?

She managed to keep him talking for longer than he expected, ranting about something called the 'conduit'. He felt her hand tighten at that. It was something they might be able to use. Her tactic was working.

“...and for that, you must die.” Saren finished, and they immediately released each other.

“Aw, bud, that just means you wasted that whole sweet speech!” Shepard called mockingly, surging to her feet. He and Wrex followed.

It was time, finally.

Time to face Saren.

Kirrahe was alive.

Ash was injured but alive.

There were wounded salarians from Kirrahe's squad, maybe one up in fighting shape, but they stayed down, out of the fight, and she kept the fight away from them.

Shepard had made the right call, numbers-wise. There were more alive here than there were at the bomb. It was the right call. It was the right call.

_It was the right call._

She just had to keep everyone alive.

At some point they'd gotten split up across cover, Wrex at the far end with Kirrahe, Garrus keeping watch over the wounded as Shepard tried to keep Saren's attention. His shields were down, he was taking hits- they were making progress. It was getting so close...

And then he aimed for the wounded. It was a massive biotic blast, and Garrus somehow managed to intercept it, the blow slamming him into a barrier, shields gone, body crumpling. She jolted to her feet and started running, but a second biotic blow hit her, sending her to the ground. Rifle clattering across the ground, she fell on her stomach, wind knocked out of her. She was struggling to her feet, lungs heaving for air that wouldn't come, when a hand grabbed her from behind.

Grabbed by the neck, the throat, she was heaved to her feet, kicking. Struggling and choking, she was pulled level with Saren's face, her fingers raking at his. She could feel her windpipe being crushed, vision starting to darken at the edges as she fought.

The thought that went through her head probably should have been something noble and self-sacrificing, but the only thing she could think was...

It was unfair how hard it was to kick a turian in the dick.

Then again, if she could kick him right now, that would mean he had an erection, and the implication...

There was a rumble of noise, and Saren's head jolted to the side in surprise, grip loosening. She swung a fist up, bracing herself with a slam of her heel against his thigh, sending more momentum into the punch. It landed, hard, and she was dropped as he staggered back and away.

Wheezing, she grabbed her pistol and swung it up at him, vision still blurry and confused. She fired, wildly, but he was retreating, getting onto his stupid hoverboard thing. No, no. No, the bomb was still going to go.

Giving up as Saren retreated, she staggered to the side, turning and pelting for Ash. She grabbed her by the arm, watching as Wrex heaved Garrus up. Ash staggered, weakly, and so Shepard just tossed her into a fireman carry, careful not to jostle anything too hard. Garrus was standing under his own power.

The relief she felt was overwhelming. Kirrahe and the guys started heaving up wounded Salarians, some of whom at least seemed to be moving under their own power. It was the Normandy's arrival that had distracted Saren. They all limped towards it.

She got Ash on, turned back to help the last of Kirrahe's squad, passing him off to Garrus.

There was a breath in her ear, barely heard, the faint rasp of a voice. “You need to run.”

“We're out of here, Kaidan,” she promised, wincing at his pained, faint cough. On his way out, then. “You did good. You saved them all. You saved me. Thank you.”

“...bye, Faith.”

“Bye, Kaidan. See you on the other side. Save me a seat at the bar.”

Her name was the last thing she heard him say.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains some NSFW discussions, but no action. there will be more of it from this point on in the story. I probably won't warn for discussions from this point on, but I will mark more explicitly NSFW chapters moving forward.

Kaidan's family was military.

It made it easier.

Facing Ashley's family would have been harder, all those sisters. Shepard called his family immediately, said the right things. She debriefed immediately. Called the Council. She dealt with it all immediately. Still in armor, dirty, exhausted, she dealt with it all while she could keep moving. She didn't care what they thought of her.

Shepard didn't care that they didn't believe her about the reapers.

But she did, oh, she did. Naked, limply wrapped in a towel and sitting on the floor next to her bed as her hair dripped down the curve of her shoulder in a cold trickle, she stared at her omni-tool. She'd almost called Amanda five times. And then she didn't. She wouldn't.

Damn it.

Why wouldn't they believe her?

She'd been sitting there over an hour, cold and naked, unable to muster the energy to pull herself up. She should eat. She should hydrate, take care of herself. Instead she sat, and wondered if she was failing her crew by not being out there, trying to boost morale.

She should be making them all grateful for his sacrifice.

The first two times her omni-tool sounded the call at her, she dismissed it. Each time it got harder. The third, she picked up. Her hand shook.

“I don't want to talk.”

Garrus sighed. “Don't have to.”

“I'm not drinking,” she said, trying not to sound resentful. It wasn't Garrus' fault. He was the only person she was _willing_ to talk to right now, but...

Even so she felt like there was nothing to say.

“I wouldn't blame you for it, Faith. I'd bring you the bottle.”

“I'm just...nothing right now,” she admitted, voice cracking. “I did the right thing. I always do the right thing, Garrus. There should be comfort in that. There isn't.”

“Maybe there will be eventually.”

“I don't deserve to be comforted.”

“Then should I go?”

Fighting off her own instincts, she admitted, “No, I- I don't mind talking to _you_.”

“I meant actually go. I'm outside your door.”

She was getting to her feet before she even realized it. If for no other reason than him standing outside her door might be seen, and then people would talk. On her way past the closet, she grabbed out a t-shirt, pulled it over her head, along with some panties. She haphazardly wriggled into them, hopping on one foot. She was still wet. It would have to do.

As she stepped close and the door slid open, blinked and glanced up at Garrus in slight confusion- it clarified quickly when she met his eyes.

He was in his under-armor, gloves. _And_ the helmet.

Whatever it was inside of her that had been propping her up, getting her through all of this finally crumbled, and she felt her eyes tearing up as she stepped back from the door so he could enter. It finally broke over her like a wave, the grief and pain free at last. Oh god. It was too much.

The door slid closed.

It was like it cut her strings. She crumpled and he was there, arms wrapping around her as her knees buckled. He had her, and her hands clung to him, grabbing the back of his cowl as he pulled her up, an arm tucked under her ass, one slung across her shoulders. He was like a wall of security.

“Okay,” he said softly.

“I can't-” Her voice broke, crackled across all the things she hadn't said.

“It's okay.”

He carried her to the bed. She held onto him when he tried to put her down, because she was terrified he would go. He tried to settle her, but she denied it, hanging on tighter than a leech. When he sighed, planting a knee on the bed and finally rolling into it, a few more tears spilled. She grabbed at his waist.

His hand immediately moved to her lower back, but he hesitated.

“What?” she asked weakly as his fingers pulled back.

“Sometimes you do things and I know they don't mean to you what they do to me,” he admitted quietly.

“Have you ever told me?” Her fingers moved, stroking his waist, and she felt him go limp.

He froze for a few seconds, and then laughed, rueful. The hand lifted to her upper back and began gliding downward. A slow, soothing motion.

“No.”

“It's...good,” she surmised softly, broken. Her fingers wandered, finding a seam to slip in, feeling the skin between plates, the sharp inward curve. It was softer there, but with the thick fabric between them she couldn't really tell.

She felt him pull away, but she denied it, fingers digging in, back arching towards him. His breath hitched, and she felt a sudden surge of power. She could control him now, finally. She knew how.

“Don't,” he said faintly.

“For you, or for me?” she asked, stubbornly. It was a boundary, and she should respect him, but she was so fucking messed up. She was actually relieved when he rose and pulled away, denying her a further escalation. Her hands fell to the bed, and she felt the shame.

The violation.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” she said, curling in on her side, hands reaching for her head. Fingers found her scalp, twisting in hair, digging.

“Oh, Trouble. You barely touched me,” he sighed. The edge of the bed sagged again as he settled down again. He shouldn't. He said no and she pushed, and he'd rightfully pulled away. He just sat down, though, half turned towards her.

“I could do worse,” she said faintly. It was true. She could have dragged him back in. They were both so damn weak for each other, or they wouldn't be in this situation at all. They both knew he shouldn't be here. “I'm capable of horrifying things, Garrus. I could make us both so happy for about ten minutes, and then miserable for a lifetime.”

But she needed him here.

“It's the choices.”

Acknowledging her own words was hard, but she had to. Shepard knew she was in what Amanda would call a spiral. But from here, she couldn't see a way out. He reached down and tugged on her wrist, and she reluctantly let go of her hair, let him take her hand. She stared at it, the three gloved digits, idly playing with them. She could feel him watching her.

She knew she owed him a talk. It was hard to know where to start. She just wanted to keep digging down into the pit, find a bottle and someone she didn't know and didn't have to care about, and- “Did you read my file?”

“The day we first fought together.”

“I got a medal. For the blitz. It was my N7, I had something to prove. I was so sure I was the greatest thing the galaxy had ever seen, and I was desperate to prove it. I got a medal. And my N7. I thought I was unstoppable.”

“Sounds like you were.”

She smiled, humorless and cold. “I wasn't the youngest Lieutenant Commander in the Alliance ever, but it was close. If I hadn't gone to N school maybe I would have been, but...it was my biggest solo command ever. Akuze. I had fifty men under me- Captain told me I had it and let me run the op. Of course I had it. I was the best fucking thing they'd ever seen-” Her voice cracked over the last word, self-recriminating humor leaking out.

“The colony went dark. We were sent to investigate. Middle of the night...thresher maws. I don't know how many. So many. We fought while evacuating the colonists. Extracted...some. Some were just screaming. We fought as long as we could. Then it was just me, and- the bodies. Just me and the bodies.”

His thumb brushed over the back of her hand, and she pulled in closer, curling in against his thigh. Garrus released her hand and cradled the back of her head. She closed her eyes.

“I got out. Acid burns over sixty percent of my body- not allergic to thresher maws. Funny, that. I was in the hospital for a week or so getting skin grafts. Then three weeks of bed rest. And then Captain Anderson told me he wanted me in his command as soon as I was able. I'd been waiting for that for so long...so I _got_ able.”

“What do you mean?”

“I lied. A lot. To a lot of doctors until they cleared me,” she said, laughing again. Not humorous. Self-loathing. “I studied their records, I found out which ones would be most likely to clear me before I should be, and I went to them specifically. I lied to Amanda, my therapist, until she cleared me. I'm pretty sure she knows I'm lying and is just waiting for me. She knows I'd find someone else if she refused. Besides, it was only a shakedown.”

He went very still, and she felt it. Felt it when he realized what she was saying. “Faith, are you saying you went to Eden Prime a _month_ after losing your squad and nearly getting killed?”

“It was only a shakedown.”

“But Anderson knew the truth, didn't he? So why did he-”

“Nobody could have anticipated this, Garrus. Besides, I'm really good at seeming okay. I have a lot of practice. My file though, full of red flags. If I didn't have Spectre status I'd be on enforced leave right now.”

“Damn it, Faith,” he sighed, and she laughed again.

“I remember the names,” she said, the humorless laughter dying into something cold and bitter. “I always remember the names, Garrus. It helps camaraderie, morale, it- I remember the names. And then they die.”

“Faith...”

“And then we put the names on a wall. Or on a monument. There's a monument on Akuze now but the people are still in my head and I can't forget the names. And then we went to Eden Prime and I lost Jenkins. Immediately. I practically stepped off the ship and _lost_ him, Garrus.”

Finally, finally it happened.

She broke.

The tears started, but he was there, turning and picking her up again, pulling her into his arms. They wrapped around her shoulders, secure, as she burrowed in and hid against him. He should have been uncomfortable, but he wasn't, there was a spot against the curve where his cowl started that her cheek just seemed to fit in. His arms were a comfortable weight, anchoring.

She wanted to talk, there were still things to say, words to put to the misery, but she was sobbing.

There wasn't anything soft or gently cathartic about it. She was heaving for air, throat raw, a snotty, pathetic mess. It didn't help, it hurt. She hated crying so much.

He was saying something, probably something soothing, but she couldn't hear it. She could feel it, though, the soft vibration, the thrum in his chest, it penetrated despite nothing else seeming to get through. Despite the agony, as she sobbed herself out, it calmed her bit by bit.

One of his hands was rubbing her back, the tips of his talons blunted by the gloves. When she exhaled a long, desperate breath and collapsed, it stilled, and then slid up to the back of her head. It was nice how big his hands were.

“Everything I thought I was after the blitz, Garrus,” she said, voice cracking. “All of it gone. I'm not the hero who saves people. I'm the one who gets them killed.”

“You're a soldier, Faith. We both know what that's like, and we know that's not true. People die, but people die _saving_ people. It doesn't always go right. It can't always go right.”

“If I'm the only one in danger, I'm the only one who dies,” she said quietly, and his chest rose and fell underneath her in a long sigh.

“So that's why.”

She sniffled, turning her head when his finger nudged her ear. Gently his thumb stroked under her eye, wiping away the smeared tears. At least _he_ wasn't allergic to _her_.

“Kaidan-” She stopped, unable to finish.

“I shouldn't have...” Frustration in his voice.

“And then maybe Ashley would be dead,” she countered weakly. “We can both say it over and over, Garrus. We did what had to be done. I made the right call. You were right to convince me to give Ash that chance. But that won't make it _feel_ true.”

He sighed, slowly, chest deflating underneath her. “We just have to keep saying it, I guess.”

“I thought I was the goddamn second coming, Garrus.”

“I have no idea what that means,” he admitted.

A hint of exhausted humor wended through her mind. “I thought I was the best thing to ever happen to the Alliance. I had to be. I'd built it up in my head- I had to be a big fat hero, I had to be the best. I guess it all crashed and burned on Akuze and I haven't let myself come to terms with it.”

“You are a hero, Faith,” Garrus said quietly.

“Yeah, right,” she murmured bitterly. It wasn't so sharp now, though. The edges felt softened, rounded off a little.

“You're _my_ hero,” he countered.

That got a couple more tears, and she let him wipe them away, not hiding them this time. Sniffling faintly, she breathed in deeply a few times, fighting through the wistful pain his words had brought. When he gently nudged her chin, she reluctantly dragged her eyes up to his face. And then winced when she remembered he was in a helmet.

“Hey.”

“This...sucks,” she said, trying to encompass the strange, twisted emotions that the whole situation brought.

“I don't know what to do.”

“Me either,” she acknowledged quietly. “I mean, we both know-” There she cut off, unwilling to finish it.

_We both know it's going to end. We both know it can't work._

“If I wasn't so damn selfish, I would already be g-”

“Stop,” she interrupted him roughly. “I made you a _promise_. And I know I failed on Virmire, I know I failed you, I didn't get him, but-”

“No, no. Hey.” He tightened his arms around her again, and she buried herself against him, closing out having to look into his face. Having to acknowledge how covered up he had to be just to touch her. “We were all in that fight. We did everything we damn well could, Trouble. We'll find him, and his catalyst, and we'll stop whatever the hell that reaper thinks it's doing. And then we'll give Wrex Saren's head and try not to think about what he's going to do with it.”

It should have made her laugh, but she was hung up on something else. “You believe me,” she said faintly.

“I was there- and even if I wasn't. Yes. I believe you.”

“The council thinks I'm crazy,” she said bitterly.

“They have to. If they don't, it means it's real. They can't handle that, you know that.”

“I punched Saren in the face,” she admitted, oddly proud of that fact.

“Damn right you did. Sorry I missed seeing it, I was busy taking a nap,” Garrus said, and this time she did laugh faintly. It helped.

Garrus helped.

Some of the strain in her chest eased, heart soothed just a little. Just enough that maybe she could do what she knew needed to be done instead of self-destructing. This wasn't nearly good enough, not for her and not for what he deserved, but it was something.

They sat in silence for a while, and started rubbing her back again, idly. She shifted a little to get more comfortable, tucking her legs over one of his thighs, feeling the slight cramp from having been sitting in an odd position for too long. His thighs weren't quite comfortable, but it wasn't too bad.

At least she was soft in the spots where he was a bit harder- okay, not a good place for her brain to be going.

“How do turians cuddle?” she asked, trying to fit her brain around that instead.

“What kind of question is that?” he asked, faintly laughing. It felt nice against her cheek, making her smile.

“Just lots of pointy bits, that's all.”

“The same as anyone else, I guess. Except maybe hanar,” Garrus said, vaguely amused. “I admit I'm not used to someone uh-” His voice went awkward. “Fitting so close to me.”

“Being squishy is good for something,” she quipped, a little amused by how easy it was to fluster him.

“Yeah,” he said, and this time it was a little more strained.

Confused, she pulled back, staring up into his face. Stupid helmet. “What's wrong?”

“I feel bad saying it, but it was easier to ignore when you were upset, sorry. I need some space,” he said, uncomfortably.

“Did I do something-” She stalled as his arms retreated, alarm rising. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, Faith,” he retorted, frustration overtaking awkwardness. When she tried to keep him from retreating, reaching out, he pushed her hands down, sliding back on the bed away from her. “I'm just trying to not kill you because I get a damn erection!” He froze the instant he said it, and then gave a quiet, “shit.”

Faith went still as well in shock, and then abruptly clapped a hand over her mouth. She didn't mean to, but the giggling started despite herself. It was wrapped up in the temporarily relieved misery and bitterness, this whole situation so fucking stupid and impossible and heartbreaking that somehow it got funny. She couldn't have stopped if she wanted to.

“All right,” he sighed exasperatedly.

As he pulled back from her, slinging a leg over so she wasn't between them any more, Faith fell face-first on the bed, laughing hysterically. It was so stupid. So fucking stupid. Life was the most ridiculous, unfair, hilarious thing.

He was annoyed, but when the laughter turned into tears he was there next to her, a hand on her back as she started sobbing again. This time it was shorter, but no less painful, leaving her face-down in the hot, wet mattress, her whole body shaking in the aftermath. The tremors kept going as she fought to breathe, and he rubbed her back slowly.

Exhausted again, she finally collapsed.

“Faith.”

“Fuck my life,” she groaned dramatically into the mattress.

“Fucking is the last thing that's going to be happening, Trouble,” Garrus said dryly.

She laughed again, shoulders shaking briefly. “Yeah. But I could push you, you know. We're idiots for each other. I could push you. Force you to know what it sounds like when I cum.” It was mean, but she was feeling mean all of a sudden. She also knew it was a line that couldn't be un-crossed. They were saying things out loud.

Thinking about them.

“ _Stop_ that,” he told her roughly.

“But you wouldn't stop me,” she said.

He sighed, a long, exhausted sigh. “I wouldn't.”

“It's not good for my mental state to not get it out, you know. Sex helps. It's good stress relief. I'm just afraid all I'll be thinking about is you,” she told the mattress, since she couldn't look at him right now.

She figured he was going to scold her again, but all he did was rub her back lightly. “Yeah. I get that. But, you know, it might help.”

“You can't seriously be encouraging me to go out and have a one night stand,” she said, turning her head to the side at last. But she was just staring at his leg. Finding his face would have required effort, so she just glared at his leg. The fuck was wrong with him?

His warm, lazy voice was soothing, even when she was annoyed, and it helped take away some of her prickliness. “Listen, trust me, I am well aware that sometimes that stress relief is needed, Faith. You can't bottle things up like this. You're not the only one who's been known to use it to...”

“Blow off steam?” she suggested, and at his faint chuckle, sighed, the last of her anger fading. “You wanna go pick up girls together, Garrus?”

“That's- ah- taking it a little too far. I'd rather not know the details,” he said, reaching down and tucking her hair back behind her ear, fingers stroking through the strands almost curiously. “This is easier than I thought it'd be.” At her questioning noise, he clarified. “Actually talking about it instead of pretending it isn't happening, or blowing up at each other.”

“I'm kind of emotionally constipated, sorry.”

“Okay, that human idiom? I do not like.”

She smiled maliciously, but didn't push it any further. “Everything's too easy with you for me. It's stupid, and so are we, and we're setting ourselves up for misery, but...I don't want to care right now. Everything's going wrong, and I-” Her voice cracked. “I just want this. Just for a little bit longer.”

Silence between them, but his hand hadn't stopped. She got the distinct impression that he wasn't just trying to keep her calm, he was satisfying his curiosity about her hair. Shepard wasn't going to complain. It felt nice.

“Well, I can't seem to leave. But I'm serious, Faith, and I need you to know that.”

“Hmm?”

“I won't let you use me to hurt yourself,” he said quietly. “That's where I'm making my stand. I need you to not push me on it, do you understand? When it comes to your safety, I'm not going to screw around. I already put you in enough danger just being here.”

“Rude,” she said sourly, despite entirely deserving it.

“I want you to promise.”

“I promise, okay?” she snapped, and then sighed, softening her voice. “I promise.”

“Thanks. I should let you get some sleep, I think you need that more than anything right now. We fought hard out there, Trouble.”

The hand was leaving, and she did not like that. Grumbling, she reached up and grabbed him, forcing his hand back down onto her head. “No.”

“Yes,” he countered with a laugh, reaching down and tweaking the tip of her nose. “Stop it."

She'd been joking, but then she wasn't, fear leaking into her mind and her voice as she reached up and grabbed his hand. "I- I know I promised. I promised I'd tell you, and I did, but fuck, Garrus. The nightmares are going to be so _bad_ tonight." The admission almost got caught in her throat.

He paused for a long moment, and then the backs of his knuckles stroked down her cheek. "I can't control your safety if I'm asleep. Will calling help? We don't even have to talk, I'll just leave it open."

"It might, but-" Suddenly awkward, she forced herself to admit, voice almost flippantly casual, "sometimes I scream and stuff."

He did her the favor of not sounding weird about it either. "It won't bother me. I'll send you a vid once I get to bed and we can watch it until you fall asleep.”

This time she let him get up, but grumbled so he'd know she cared. “Better not be a turian war movie.”

“That's really disrespectful to my culture, Shepard.”

She knew he didn't mean it.

“I wanna watch Blasto Saves Christmas!” she demanded at his back, scooting up to properly flop on the bed.

He paused between her office and bedroom, turning slowly and giving her a hard look. “We are not watching that.”

“But it's explosive fun for the whole family, Garrus!” Shepard said in her best wheedling voice.

“We're watching Last of the Legion.”

“Ugggh,” she groaned, reaching up to pinch her nose. “Fine! On _one_ condition!”

“What?”

“I get to pick the next one,” she said, and then hastened, “it won't be Blasto Saves Christmas, I was kidding. I hate that movie.”

He looked genuinely relieved. “It's only fair.”

“It's going to be Blasto 3,” she said, just to make him glare at her again. “What, you agreed!”

“Why do you make me regret all my choices?” he asked, turning and heading out, reaching up to take off his helmet.

The instant the door closed, her smile fell. It was like his presence in the room had kept her from feeling all of the things that were still there. Pair bonding. It felt good when he was close by, and when he was gone...

Oh god.

When he was gone it was going to hurt like hell.


	24. Chapter 24

Garrus had only meant to give Faith a damn hug.

He knew those sorts of things were important to her, and he'd seen how she was still in that cold, hyper-focused state she put herself in to get through the difficult things. He just wanted to help. Unfortunately, he'd completely underestimated what would happen when he was actually able to touch her in private.

She really was trouble.

It had all messed with his head- the feeling of her melted against his chest, the way she'd finally let herself be vulnerable, and a the unexpected fact that the parts of his body that hadn't bothered to check in with his head had decided that she had extremely sexy legs. And they'd been completely on display last night.

The problem with getting to know Faith Shepard seemed to be ending up hopelessly attracted to her.

And then somehow, some way, they'd come to an agreement that was- at least mutually self-destructive and not just her destroying herself? He probably should be getting his head checked that he'd not even second-guessed the decision. Garrus wasn't going to, but he should.

They were careening towards inevitable destruction and he couldn't think of any reason to say no to the idea.

The mood on the ship was a little low as they headed back towards Citadel, but not nearly as bad as it could have been. Saving some of the salarian squad definitely helped, but Kaidan had been well-loved by the crew. He'd listened to a monologue over his breakfast from one of the engineers mourning not shooting her shot with Alenko. Him just listening seemed to help.

He learned he got up before Shepard- but he also learned why. She'd woken up at least four times during the night that had managed to rouse him, twice with pretty horrifyingly violent nightmares he'd managed to coax her out of, and another two times where she'd just been talking to him- but complete nonsense. Those had been weird. Maybe it was a human thing, some sort of difference in how they slept where they stayed asleep but the brain started firing. He wondered if she remembered.

He wondered how many times she'd woken up that he'd slept through.

She'd finally gotten up for the day when he was heading down to the garage, and _that_ had scared him more than the terrified nightmares had.

The shout in his ear had nearly deafened him, and he'd startled violently in the elevator, getting him a strange look from Adams. Garrus had flashed him an apologetic smile, and gestured to his ear. “Listening to a show.”

“Jumpy for a sniper,” Adams joked, as they stepped off the elevator, parting ways.

“That's how I stay alive, Adams!”

The panting in his ear, panicked and fluttering, shaking on every inhale, gradually evened out. He paused, finding a spot to not be overheard, and turned his audio back on. “Hey.”

A shocked inhale, and then he heard her exhale slowly, quavering. “Shit. Right. Sorry. Sorry, Garrus.”

“Don't apologize.”

A moment of silence between them, and he heard her breathing even out, going normal again.

“Well, at least you'll always know when I'm up,” she quipped, the easy voice slipping into place as easily as a mask.

“Every time? You wake up that hard every time?”

“Ah, it's fine. Nothing, really, just some early morning cardio.”

He tried not to sound too annoyed. Any other turian would find it absolutely infuriating, but with her at least he understood why she felt the need to be like this. “You don't have to lie to me.”

She gave a small, tired laugh, and he heard a soft rustle of fabric. “Yeah, every time,” she admitted. “Doc's doing a sleep study.”

“Well, that's something, at least.”

“I'm doing my best to be a good girl, Vakarian.”

“You're really not,” he said, and then cleared his throat at her lazy little hum in his ear. He could _hear_ her stretching. The noise scaled up into a slow, lazy groan that was way too distracting, bringing back those hot, impossible thoughts from last night. Damn it. “You're _really_ not.”

This time the laughter was genuine and unburdened. “Mmh, fair.” She sighed, and her voice turned more sober. “I need to give a speech. It's important.”

“Need a pep talk?”

“Nah, I'm good at speeches, but thanks. I'm gonna go hop in the shower and get dressed.”

Hmmh. Shower. No. Damn it, he really needed to keep his brain out of the gutter.

Hoping he sounded normal, he cleared his throat. “Okay. I'll talk to you soon. Call Emi before we get in or you're going to regret it,” he reminded her.

“Thank you,” she sighed. “I'm glad I have you watching my back. And thanks...for last night.”

“Do you remember?”

“Not much, just your voice,” she said quietly.

He remembered. The fear in her voice, the begging, the panic. He knew now why she woke the way she did, why it haunted her still. She'd woken up in the middle of the night on Akuze to find her men dying.

“I wish...”

“What?”

“I wish you'd put the pistol away, Trouble. I don't like that you keep it under your pillow.”

She let out a slow breath, tired. “I told you about it. I don't remember.”

“Yeah.”

“I need it still. It helps, I can't sleep without it,” she said quietly. “I- I should go.”

The call ended before he could scrape up an argument.

He pushed off the wall and headed for his locker, a little surprised to find Ashley where she usually was, methodically cleaning her weapons. When he rolled up next to her, her face in profile was tense. Turning around, he leaned against the wall next to her, folding his arms.

She glanced up once, and then down again.

Dark circles under her eyes.

Maybe saying something to her would help him. “Commander made the right call.”

“She made the call for _me_ ,” Ashley replied sharply, eyes hard. “Because I had something to prove.”

“She made the right call. She acknowledged she made a mistake in not listening to your reasoning, which is more than some COs would do,” he said, trying not to sound too much like he was defending Shepard. They got teased enough. “Everything that happened after that call was bad circumstances.”

“Why did she come for _me_ , though?” Ashley asked, dropping her head.

“She didn't. She came to save the most lives. I don't think, for her, rank makes a life more worth saving.” Another very non-turian stance Shepard had. He kind of liked her way of doing things, which probably didn't make him a very good turian. He hadn't really realized before how much she'd changed his view on things, slowly nudging him around in a new direction.

It was something to think about.

“Maybe it should be,” she said bitterly. Ashley shook her head, ponytail swinging. “I'll be fine. Honestly, Garrus, I'll be fine. I get it, this isn't the first time I've been the last man standing. It just doesn't get easier.”

“But you weren't. You got out Kirrahe and his men.”

“That's true,” she acknowledged, dropping her head. “We did.”

“Shepard doesn't regret it, Ash. You heard what she said. She doesn't regret it even for a second. I know I'm just some C-Sec dropout, but I still get what it's like.”

“Not just,” Ash said, reaching over and shoving his shoulder lightly. She wasn't smiling, but at least she looked less grim. “Thanks, Garrus. I should-”

The ship-wide comms came on, and there was a gentle clear of a throat. Faith. Funny how he knew it instantly and without a word, her warm voice that crackled softly when it lowered.

“Good morning. I am informed that you are all awake, which means you have no choice but to listen to me. Sorry about that.”

Around the garage, he could see people pausing, attention focusing in. More than half glanced towards the ceiling, as if looking up toward the bridge. He was one of them.

“This is Commander Shepard. We lost good people yesterday. All of us. Alliance and STG, and those who have chosen to join us in our cause- we lost friends and fellow soldiers. Standing against Saren was our common goal, and yesterday...we did that.”

Her voice was firm, but gentle at the same time. Calming and bracing. He wished he was next to her for this, to support her, but listening to her from afar let him understand what she wanted them to feel, not worrying about her.

“We struck a decisive blow. We crippled his operations, and sent the bastard running.” Her voice momentarily tensed, and there was a murmur of noise in the echoing garage. Even a couple faint cheers. When she spoke again it was that easy, cocky voice he loved so much. “He fled from Virmire like he ran from us before, and he's running out of places to hide. Soon there won't be any left.”

There was a pause, and her voice went gentle again. He could hear the emotion in it, strained and tight, but painfully earnest. Throaty with emotion, every word carrying a weight. “We lost...good people. I won't forget a single one of them. The ones I never had the good fortune to meet, I still carry their sacrifice with me, and I will _make_ it worthwhile. As I know you all will. We will never forget them, and we will not give up their fight. We will not stop. We will not surrender. We will _defeat_ Saren.”

Shepard's voice cut out and Pressley took over, announcing the twenty four hours of leave on Citadel. When Garrus glanced down, Ash was wiping tears from her eyes, the back of her hand dragging down her cheeks. He didn't comment- he doubted she wanted him to.

“Good speech.”

“Yeah,” Ashley agreed, and then glanced over her shoulder. “I hope she can get the Council to believe her. I'd hate to think that Alenko...that Kaidan's loss meant nothing.”

“You heard her. She's going to make sure that it doesn't,” Garrus said.

“If anyone can do it, it's Shepard. I'm going to go speak with Captain Kirrahe, check in on the wounded.”

“I'm sure he'd appreciate that,” Garrus agreed, sharing her nod.

He stepped back as she grabbed her weapons and went to put them away, scanning the garage. The damage the Mako took on Virmire probably needed seeing to, and it would give his hands something to do. He had some processing to do.

There were going to be some decisions to be made. No point hiding from them, even if he hoped they were later and not sooner. If this was going to be over soon, though...

He had to prove to Shepard that it had all been worth it.

After eating she took some time to go around and check in on people.

Things seemed fairly stable, people were understandably sober, but feeling hopeful rather than defeated. Some time to de-stress would help immensely. She saved Liara for second to last, after she changed into her workout gear and popped by the doc's to get her dosages.

With the thulium allergy confirmed, there were some things that needed replacing at Citadel, but not much. As had been mentioned before, it wasn't exactly a common metal, and almost nowhere would she actually be running into it physically.

Apart from turians, of course.

The door to the lab slid open and Shepard wandered in. Liara didn't seem to notice her until she got close, abruptly startling and rising to her feet.

“Goddess!”

“Sorry!” Shepard laughed, quickly lifting both hands. “I didn't mean to surprise you.”

Liara smiled, embarrassed. “I was lost in thought. Were you coming to check in on me?”

“Of course. We both keep getting mass info-dumps in our heads, who better than me to know?” Shepard quipped, and they shared a smile.

“Doctor Chakwas assures me I am going to be fine. I find her knowledge of asari and other physiology quite impressive. She really does make sure she cares for all of your crew, not only the humans.”

Shepard smiled fondly. “I like her, and I trust her. She's the best. Considering how many doctors I deal with, that says a lot.”

“I suppose it does. How did the Council handle your news?”

Shepard grimaced, leaning against the desk. “Oh, great. You know, questioning my sanity, all that. I just have to go confront them in person. I don't care if they believe me. As long as they give me access to the Terminus systems, that's what matters. I'll bring them home a dead reaper to dissect.”

“I would care,” Liara admitted, tipping her head to the side. “But I understand it must seem a fantastical claim. I think it likely doesn't help that the other races often see humanity as something of a bully.”

“Bully?” Shepard laughed.

“You run over anyone in your path to get what you want,” she said apologetically. “Not you, Shepard, but...”

“No, I get what you're saying,” she assured, completely unsurprised. “We are an aggressive species, I'll give you that. You'd think the turians would respect that.”

“Oh, no,” Liara said with a small smile. “Turians are much less individualistic. Besides, they often see humanity as disrespectful of what they see as the proper chain of authority and seniority.”

“What, you mean we're jumped up kids ignoring our elders to try and to demand what we don't deserve?” she joked easily, laughing at Liara's apologetic tilt of her head. “I mean...sure, but anything can look bad when you strip all nuance from it, huh? By that metric you could call turians rigid and flavorless- and I could go on, but I'm sure you get my point from that. Stripping down the nuance takes all the chaos out of life, and it's in the chaos that all the good stuff happens that makes the real changes.”

“That's a very human thing of you to say,” Liara said with a smile that they shared. “But I understand what you are saying. There is a reason asari value genetic diversity so highly. We cannot grow without change.”

“And we can't change without a catalyst,” Shepard said with a quirk of her lips.

“A wonderful way of thinking of it. Then perhaps you will be a catalyst, Shepard. I hope that you can change the Council's mind. This is far too important.”

“I'm not going to give them a choice. I can't afford to,” she said with a sigh. “I'm glad you're doing okay, Liara. Having you here, fighting with me, it's meant a lot to me.”

Liara's smile softened. “It means a lot to me as well, Shepard. Having your friendship has- it's nice to have friends. Perhaps I've spent too much time alone.”

“Well, it's not like Prothean ruins are the most social sorts of places. Still, there's got to be things to learn in other places, if you look. It can't be good to spend all that time in isolation.”

“You may be right. After all, beside you I've learned more than I did in all of my years of research alone.” She smiled. “Even the methods were more efficient.”

“Yeah, well,” Shepard laughed. “If it's all the same to you, I think I'll avoid those methods if I can in the future. Between my usual dreams and the Prothean dreams, my brain's been an awfully busy place. Sleep shouldn't be so noisy!”

“Hopefully this will all be over soon, and you can rest.”

“I'm not great at rest, but who knows! All right, I've got to hit my workout. Glad to hear you're doing well,” Shepard said, tipping her head.

“Thank you for stopping by.”

Grabbing a bar, Shepard noshed her way through it stubbornly on her way to the garage. It wasn't that she minded them- she'd been stuck on a nutrient paste diet for _years_ while they figured out what she could eat- but the few times she actually got to enjoy food did make it pretty clear how dull they were. Still, her brain saw 'food' more as 'treats' so it didn't impact her too much, morale-wise.

Hell, she didn't even know what half the food she couldn't eat _tasted_ like, since she'd tested positive for allergies before she'd even tried them.

Couldn't miss what you didn't know!

Unweighted by armor or uniform, her steps were light as she bounced her way down. She felt good, physically. Would be important to keep it that way, which meant no unnecessary risks. At least outside of fighting. Stubbornly her brain rejected the whole conversation she'd had with Garrus last night- yeah, she owed it to him and it'd been hard to admit out loud, but she couldn't pull back now. He called it reckless, she called it a hundred and ten percent.

She had to see this through.

That meant being in as perfect physical condition as she could be, which meant spending her free time training instead of lounging around. It meant trying to get sleep. Oddly enough, she hadn't slept as well as she had last night in a while- yeah, the nightmares had come, but they always did, and at least last night they'd been short.

Would it be weird to ask to sleep with the call open again?

Or were they just at the point where everything was weird so they might as well just go with it and stop caring? It kind of felt like they were. Because they knew it was going to be over, so whatever happened between now and then might as well happen.

Fatalism had to be good for something, right?

“Wrex!” she shouted as she hit the floor, heading for her mats. The gloves tucked into the back pockets of her shorts were pulled out, yanked on one by one.

“Shepard!”

“You got a hot minute, buddy? Gotta work on my krogan murdering skills!”

“Let me get out of my armor.”

She padded to her mats, flexing her fingers in the half-gloves. Good enough. Glancing sidelong, she caught sight of half of a turian from under the Mako, though he was rapidly pushing out from under it. When his head poked out from underneath, eyes narrowed at her, Shepard's lips quirked up into a smile.

“You're not sparring Wrex,” Garrus said flatly.

“No, just working on some manuvers. Don't be so paranoid.”

“This the back-jumping thing again, Trouble?” When she grinned, he sighed, sitting up and reaching for the toolkit. “Of course it is. Be careful. Send me your music? I need something to listen to while I work.”

Pleased, she beamed at him, nodding her head and turning her attention to her omni-tool. The warmth lingered, keeping a smile on her list as she sent over the files. There were a lot of them, but data-wise, music was barely anything. The transfer took almost no time at all.

Garrus glanced down at his own omni-tool, and smiled faintly. “Impressive.”

“I told you, it's a big collection. Have fun. I'll probably quiz you on what you liked,” she admitted, turning her attention to Wrex as he stomped up. “Hey. So I've been working on some close-quarters takedowns I wanted your expertise and well, your body to practice. I was hoping that'd be okay.”

“Close quarters. Against krogans. Shepard, I know you're not stupid,” Wrex rumbled.

“My agility, your back vulnerability,” she countered, and he gave a thoughtful grunt. “I have a speed advantage.”

“Not during a charge,” he countered.

“But I definitely have a dodge advantage,” she countered, and he accepted it with a nod. “So either a dodge to avoid a charge, or a stealth attack from behind is what I'm talking about. Getting behind, managing a vault to the back, and then an omni-blade to the neck. I haven't tried it with the blade before, last time I used a pistol and honestly just shot like a crazy person, but I think an artery sever would be faster and safer. You guys got thick skulls.”

“It would,” Wrex agreed, giving another thoughtful, gravelly noise. “The tactics are sound, Shepard, but the execution is what matters. You're a little bit off and you get ripped off like a sand leech and ground into a paste.”

She spread her hands wide. “That's why you're here!”

Grateful he seemed game, and as expected not in the least bit insulted, they squared up together. First they practiced the takedown itself, and Shepard spent a good twenty minutes hanging from Wrex's back with an arm around his throat as he detailed the precise angle at which to sever a krogan's throat. He was a good teacher, and thorough. They practiced different cuts, analyzing her reach and various angles she could get on him without getting grabbed and thrown off.

A horizontal artery slice was eventually abandoned for a deep angled cut from the front of the throat and then around the side of the neck.

Big neck, big vein- quick death.

It left her briefly open to being grabbed, but with a stealth advantage the element of surprise seemed to make it the most viable. Talking theory wasn't hard work, but once they started working on the dodge- that's when she started feeling it. He was throwing her around now when she screwed up.

Mounting his back and clambering up, she had to be fast and precise, or she'd end up flung off of him. Shepard ended up on her back on the mat more times than she could count, knocking the wind out of her twice. He didn't go easy on her.

She didn't want him to.

Still, by the time he called it off for the day, she was feeling a little battered.

“You're getting sloppy,” Wrex said, looking no less winded for the nearly ninety minutes of training. “I don't want to fight you when you're not at your best, Shepard. More later.”

“I suppose that's only fair,” she said, trying not to sound too resentful. She'd been having fun. “Thanks, Wrex.”

“This was good for me, too. Good to learn your own weaknesses. You're a good battle master, Shepard,” he said, and turned around and trudged away.

She watched him go, heart in her throat, hands reaching up to clasp her flushed cheeks. Had he really said that? Oh god, should she say something back? What would you even say to something like that?

There was an amused chuckle from nearby. “You look like he just proposed, Faith.”

Glancing over, cheeks still hot from more than just exertion, she replied breathlessly, “he just called me _battle master_ , Garrus!”

Leaning against the side of the Mako, arms crossed, he smiled at her. “Well, hell, if I'd known it was that easy.”

“It wouldn't work coming from you,” she scoffed playfully, reaching up and pulling her ponytail down so she could scrape up the escaped curls and twist it all up into a bun. “How's my baby?”

He paused for a second, head tilting faintly. “That must have translated a little strange. Did you mean me or the vehicle?”

Shepard raised an eyebrow slowly, but he seemed more genuinely curious than teasing. “The vehicle, Garrus.”

“It's fine. Just need to put the panel back now that I've got the dent out,” he said. “Say, listen. I've been doing some thinking...”

“You know I'm always here to listen,” she said, feeling more relaxed about that now that they'd gotten the Talk out of the way. She approached at last, but kept distance between them, pausing at the front of the Mako. “What's up, Cowboy?”

“I've- ah. I've been thinking about things with Saren, and Saleon, and...you know, I think you're right. I guess I didn't really stop before to think about _why_ I thought it was so important to take them out instead of, well, taking them in.”

She nodded slowly, smile fading as she listened. He seemed serious. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. And with this whole thing with Kaidan and Ash...” He paused again, and they both acknowledged it with a moment of silence. Her head dropped for a few seconds, feeling the weight again of that choice she'd had to make. “I guess I realize now I've had it a little wrong. That it's about protecting people, not about me. Not about what I want. I was so desperate to go after Saleon because he got away from _me_.”

“He was hurting people.”

Garrus nodded. “And that made it feel right. But, you know, that's not why I chose to go after him. I went after him because he got away from me and I can't stand that. But I can't do that, I can't lose sight of what's going on around me to get to my goal. It could have gone a lot worse than a burn between your shoulders. It could have been anything else. Innocent bystanders, even.”

“You are kind of stubborn like that,” she acknowledged.

“Well, I'm going to choose,” he leaned on the word and they both smiled, “to do better. To stop and think things through. To do things for the right reason. And I'm...once we have him, and we turn him in so he can see proper justice, I'm going to finally go do what _I_ want. I'm going to apply for Spectre training.”

Her smile softened, and she tilted her head to the side. It hurt, a little, but that was more the idea of an after than his choice itself. No. His choice was amazing.

“I don't suppose me vouching for you would do much, huh? Might even hurt your chances.”

Garrus chuckled softly. “Well, after this, who knows? It means a lot that you would, though.”

“Tch. Who are you talking to, Vakarian? Of course I would. You know I've got your back.”

“And I've got yours,” he confirmed, and then glanced over his shoulder. “I should probably put your baby back together.”

“Okay. I'm going to go do some stretching and make sure Wrex didn't mess me up too badly,” she said, tilting her head towards the mats.

With a smile, he gave her a slow once-over from head to toe, stare raking slowly back up again as she flushed. She could feel the _weight_ of it. It brought a tingle to her skin, teeth catching the inside of her lower lip as their eyes met again.

“You looked good out there.”

“You can look all you like, Vakarian,” she replied, turning on a heel, unable to help the cocky little hip-sway out of her walk.

“Oh, I will,” she heard him growl under his breath.

_Damn it._

Well, she was definitely going to be thinking about that later.

Somewhere private.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ If you want blood... \m/ ](https://open.spotify.com/track/7zscdQe9CjzXnqT3P1Ey7K)

“This is bullshit. This is absolute fucking bullshit!”

Garrus knew where Ashley was coming from, but it wasn't helping right now. When he gave her a warning look and shook his head, she huffed and crossed her arms. Shepard was ahead of them, striding out of the council chamber with her back stiff, Tali at her side.

He could tell Tali was trying to talk her down- he also knew it wouldn't work.

Watching Shepard's hopeful optimism being crushed had been painful, but living it must have been even worse.

“Can you give us a minute?”

“Yeah. I'll meet you guys at the elevator.” Ashley jogged ahead, nudging Tali on the arm and drawing her away. As they walked off together, Shepard slowed, and then stopped.

He hated how her shoulders slumped.

Garrus walked up to her side, nudging lightly against her shoulder. “Come on,” he said, and then tilted his head to the shadowed corner of a pillar. It took a few steps before she finally followed.

He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over the front of his armor. She came to a stop a few steps in front of him, and then sighed, exhausted and slow.

“Come here,” he encouraged, unfolding his arms and holding one out.

Reluctantly, she wandered over, turning around and slumping against his side, a limp weight. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder. She sighed again.

Seconds passed by, and they just stood there.

Finally she spoke, voice low and bitter. “He used me. Told me he believed me. Supported me. It was a fucking lie. Did you hear what he called me? Inconvenient. Like I'm something to be discarded now.”

He'd never liked Udina much, but it was solidifying now into a simmering, irritable distaste that was coming close to hatred. She'd been so sure she could do it. Convince them with Udina at her back. And they'd all turned on her because they didn't want to hear what she had to say.

Udina had turned on her to make a damn political move.

“He's a bastard.”

“I have to go, Garrus. I have to. I promised I would _get_ him,” she said brokenly.

“We'll figure it out. Make some calls. Maybe...” his mind was racing, but he couldn't think of a damn thing. Nobody he knew had the authority to unground a damn human Alliance ship. “We'll figure it out.”

“There might be no figuring this out. I've worked so fucking hard, Garrus. So fucking hard, and for what? To be labeled a crazy person and discarded for someone's fucking political agenda.” Venom in her voice now that he understood all too well. Being blocked by people above you, denied from going after what you needed to do. But this was bigger than chasing down Saleon, bigger than stolen goods or drugs- this was the fate of the damn galaxy.

“You know I'm a hundred percent behind you, and so is everyone on that ship,” he said, wishing he could hold her properly, give her the real comfort she needed. But this was the best they could do. “We all believe in you.”

“What does any of it mean if it ends here? What about Kaidan? He believed in me. I'm letting you all down.” Her eyes were dry when he glanced down at her face, but he could hear the break in her voice, the tears that she wouldn't shed right now.

“No, star. No. You're not letting anyone down. It's Udina that's failed us, not you. It's the Council that's failed us. Failed you.”

Her face went tight. When he nudged her shoulder with his hand, she shook her head violently. When she rolled her shoulders and pushed up, shaking him off, he let her, arm falling limply.

“You're right. I didn't fail. I didn't fucking fail.”

“You didn't,” he agreed, relieved. This was better than her blaming herself. Better by far. There was blame to be had, but none of it at all was Shepard's.

“Going back to the ship,” she said stiffly. “I need to punch something.”

“You going to shut me out?”

“No,” she reassured in a tense voice, letting out a long breath. “I'd just rather be angry right now than helpless.”

“Okay. I'm at your back.”

When she extended a hand to him, he straightened up, instinctively reaching for her. And then he hesitated. They hadn't talked about this, and if things were...not going to work out, he didn't want to cause trouble for her. He could take the heat, but he didn't want her stuck with that.

She was the one plastered all over the news, not him.

“People will stare. If we're lucky.”

“I don't care what anyone thinks,” Faith said.

Glancing back up, the hand was still extended to him, and her eyes were averted. Well, hell, if he was going to say it to her, he couldn't doubt her when she threw it back to him. Reaching out, he took her hand.

They went to join Tali and Ashley.

Luckily by the time they got back, Ash had gotten out of her system and didn't push any more. He got it. She'd been betrayed as much as anyone, and she was just trying to defend her Commander. She had a right to be pissed.

It just wasn't time to be pushing Shepard.

“You gonna go do your shopping now?” Shepard asked quietly as they got in the elevator.

“Shepard, I'm-” Tali started, and then paused awkwardly.

There was a moment where he saw it slip into place. Shepard's mask. The start of the easy smile, the lightening of her face that meant she was ready to be reassuring and cheerful- to give people what they expected from her. The mask he found so frustrating.

Then it faltered, and dropped. Instead she laughed, quietly rueful. Her lips pursed, jaw tightening, and she shook her head.

“You know what? It's not my fucking fault. I made the best argument I could, and they decided to throw me to the goddamn lions. I get it, it's hard to believe, but giving me a chance would have cost them nothing. Udina could have told them that. But he made a choice.”

“Choice to be an asshole,” Ashley muttered.

“Anyways, I think I'm going to skip the trip we planned, sorry. I'm going back to my ship. They can evict me if they want, but I'm not leaving her until they pry her from my hands.”

“It's all right, Shepard, I can handle it,” Tali reassured.

“I'll go with you, Tali. I might not know a lot about the techno-magic you do, but at least I can carry,” Ash said. “Do you think Captain Kirrahe's report might...”

“I think it's too late,” Shepard said, shaking her head. “The Alliance, not the Council grounded me. Udina doesn't care, he's trying to weasel his way onto the Council, and I can go to hell. Maybe they'll trot me out on a leash for holidays and ceremonies.”

Ashley made a rude noise. “Fuck 'em.”

“Fuck them,” Tali agreed.

Her hand was still in his, but it wasn't reassuring him. When they stepped out of the elevator, he could feel new tension in her grip, which he knew was for a different reason entirely. She didn't have her helmet, and they were heading for the Presidium. She was exposed.

Garrus hated that this was so difficult for her, that she was in danger just being out here. Maybe he shouldn't be holding her hand. It was always possible it could cause the very thing they were trying to avoid, if another turian got angry they were together.

When he carefully tried to extricate himself from her hand, hers tightened.

“Faith,” he said quietly.

“I don't care.”

“You made me a promise about your safety.”

With a faint growl under her breath, she released his hand, folding her arms tightly across her chest. He didn't like it either, especially with how she'd just been treated, but he could feel some of his own fear fading away. He couldn't put her in danger.

“You _really_ don't want me to be pissed at you right now, Vakarian,” she said tightly.

“I'll take it,” he said, rolling his shoulders in a shrug. As much as she impressed him with her skills, sheer force wasn't exactly something he thought of when it came to how she fought. How hard could she really punch? “I'll suit up when we get on board.”

She had her hands clutching her upper arms the entire way back to the ship, even when saying goodbye to Tali and Ash. He felt a little guilty for rejecting her, but it was too important to compromise on. She'd understand that.

They passed through C-Sec and out to the private dock in complete silence.

It was only when the Normandy came into view that she spoke, with a tired sigh. “I feel like I let him down.”

“Who, Captain Anderson?”

“No. Joker,” she said, eyes tightening at the corners. “He loves her so much- the ship, I mean. Maybe I can do something, convince them to keep them as pilot no matter who they make her new-” She stalled, letting out a quavering breath and shaking her head. “She was starting to feel like home, Garrus. I've never had one of those before, not really. Not for long.”

“I wish I could do something.”

“Me too,” she said.

They headed back into the Normandy together.

The news had filtered through the ship, but being that almost everyone was on leave, it was quiet.

Or at least it had been until Shepard put her music on, blaring through the entirety of the garage. Angry music today, and he appreciated the sentiment. Garrus thoroughly agreed with her. Better to be angry than helpless.

She also hit a lot harder than he'd expected, but he'd take any bruises that managed to get through his carapace without complaint. Maybe it was the lower center of gravity. Made her sturdier- but apparently that wasn't exactly a compliment you should be giving to a human. She'd given him a weird look when he'd mentioned it.

Well, it was true.

Where they'd gotten full protective sparring gear that fit a turian, he didn't know, but it was easier than his armor and almost as safe for her. They couldn't fight properly, that wasn't doable, but at least he could take her hits. That was what she needed.

After about twenty minutes of her venting her anger into the boxing pads, and into his rapidly numbing palms, the music cut out.

Chest heaving, she stepped back, glancing toward the ceiling. He did the same.

“Commander?”

“Yeah, Joker. You could have called me privately.”

“Eh, button's right here. Got a message from Captain Anderson.”

She wiped her arm across her forehead, smearing sweat. “If it's condolences I'm gonna scream.”

“Only said to meet him at that club in the wards. Flux.”

“Weird,” she muttered, reaching down to unbuckle her gloves. “Thanks, Joker. And...just know that no matter what happens, I won't let them take her from you.”

“Ah, don't get sentimental on me, Shepard. You know I only wanna fly for you.”

“Who's the sentimental one?” she scoffed, sounding more like herself. “I think this pretty ship rates higher than me, Joker.”

“The ship's not family, Shepard. You are. Joker out.”

Shepard stared at the ceiling, pulling off her gloves. She was quiet for so long that he was about to say something, and then she abruptly scoffed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose. “Bastard,” she said faintly, fondly.

Garrus smiled, shaking his head. “I can't believe you got Joker to say that.”

“I can't either,” she laughed, dropping her gloves. “I don't know what's going on. Better to be armed. Who ah- who's still on the ship, do you know?”

“I think Liara might be, do you want me to call her down for backup?”

“Thanks, Garrus. And thanks, for this. I know I'm not pleasant to be around right now,” she said with a tense sigh.

Dropping the boxing pads, he extended his gloved hands. She took them, giving them a small squeeze. He returned it. “You know people want to be around you even when you're not smiling, right? I saw it earlier. I saw you choose to be honest with Tali and Ash about how you were feeling, star. Sometimes it's okay to let it out.”

“Yeah,” she said quietly, and then blinked. “You called me that earlier. Star?”

Embarrassed, he cleared his throat. When she smiled, he knew she could tell, and when he averted his eyes she laughed quietly. “I didn't realize that I had.”

“Another nickname, Cowboy?” she teased.

“It's actually a term of endearment,” he admitted, but it still came out awkwardly. Damn it, it was so frustrating she could do this to him. She could make him so _nervous_.

“Ah,” she said quietly. “Star, huh?”

“They ah- they light the way,” he said, and then escaped to call Liara before he could get any more embarrassed.

If her mind wasn't so preoccupied with just what it was that Captain Anderson could possibly want, Shepard would probably still be smiling over Garrus' weirdly adorable bouts of awkwardness.

It happened every now and again, where he'd go from smooth as hell to tripping over his tongue, and it never ceased to be charming and oddly sweet. How she'd gone from where they started to finding a turian sweet, she had no idea. But he was.

The melancholy was still there, but it'd just become a part of things between them. It could be all of it- sad and sweet and comforting. She couldn't dwell right now.

David needed something.

She hoped it was at least commiseration. The idea that he didn't believe her either hadn't been in her head until now, and now that it was, it made her sick. Please let him not have turned his back on her. She could survive Udina being a snake. She could deal with mom not believing in her. Those were known quantitites.

She could not deal with David Anderson not being on her side- it'd crush her.

They stepped out of the elevator, and were heading for the exit to the Presidium when she heard someone calling her name.

“Commander Shepard?”

Pausing, she glanced over her shoulder. There was a woman poised there, an expectant look on her face. Human. Shepard relaxed, and was about to approach when she noticed the vid drone. Oh no.

Well, she couldn't exactly refuse, could she?

“Stay back,” she ordered the other two, and approached. Man, she really avoided this stuff as much as she could. Ugh.

The eyes on her weren't friendly or welcoming, but penetrating. “Kalisah bint Sinan Al-Jilani, Westerlund News. Would you be willing to answer some questions for our viewers?”

Hell no.

“Absolutely,” Shepard said, nodding her head. “As long as what I say isn't edited. I promise I'll keep it PG.” She pulled off her helmet and winked.

“Of course not, Commander.”

Yeah, right.

“You've been given a unique position to represent our race,” Al-Jilani said. “People want to get a sense of how you'll do that.” She brought up her omni-tool, and the vid drone came to life.

Shepard hadn't washed her face. Hopefully she wasn't too much of a mess after her little boxing bout with Garrus.

“Humans have been trying to gain the respect of the galactic community for twenty six years. With that in mind, what are your feelings on being the first human Spectre?”

On vid, Shepard. Don't make an ass of yourself- if necessary, make an ass of her, of course, but it's kill 'em with kindness time. You know how to speak to reporters, you've been doing it over half your life.

“It's an honor, of course. The Spectres represent the best of the best- from every species in the galaxy. I'm in incredible company, and I'm proud to represent humanity in this capacity.”

“Some have said that your appointment is 'throwing humans a bone'. Have you encountered any situation where the Citadel asked you to place its needs before the needs of Earth?”

Oddly, it annoyed her, though she kept it from her face and her voice. It was a common sentiment, and she got that she was so far removed from Earth that the concerns of people there seemed frustratingly human-centric, but knowing something and feeling something were two different things. She wished people would get their heads out of their asses.

But it took time.

Maybe she just needed to do a little prodding.

“We're part of the galactic community, not a separate entity. The Citadel's purpose is to serve all of those communities, and while humanity's needs are not their only concern, they are one of their concerns, and have a place on the agenda just like everyone else.”

“You've been given command of an advanced human warship for your missions. Is there anything you'd like to say about it?”

Shepard smiled, tilting her head to the side. “Oh, she's a beautiful ship. But she wasn't made only by us- she was created by a team of human and turian engineers, working together. It's incredible what innovations we can accomplish when we work together.” She gave a small laugh. “Of course, the innovations...well, they're classified.”

“So the turians have knowledge about the Normandy that is being kept from the Alliance public?” the reporter asked, which was really fucking rude of her. Shepard kept her smile. The reporter looked like she was going to keep talking, but Shepard slipped in smoothly.

“The turians? Hey, you guys got a hive mind or something I didn't know about?” she called over her shoulder playfully.

“Pretty sure we don't, Shep!” Garrus called back easily.

“They know about as much as we do, Miss Al-Jilani,” Shepard chuckled. “By which I mean the people who worked on it- some of them turian, some of them human- do. The guys that worked on it. I'm pretty sure your average citizen over in Cipritine who's just tryna live his life isn't carrying around any big old secrets.”

“But do you think it was appropriate to hand over Earth's most advanced warship to the Citadel?”

“We didn't hand over anything, miss Al-Jilani. I'm in command,” she said confidently, ignoring the twinge of pain in her chest. “I'm human. So's my crew.”

“Speaking of your new job, did the Council order you to sabotage human research concern on Noveria?”

She tried not to let her eyelid twitch. Fucking Noveria. Fucking Binary Helix. Fucking goddamn corporations and their evil science.

Shepard smiled. “No, unfortunately there was an accident I had to mop up there because they couldn't handle it. The Council didn't have anything to do with it. I can't breech confidentiality, sorry.”

“That's a surprising revelation, Commander. We've had nothing but stonewalling from Binary Helix.”

Shepard tried not to smirk. Whoops.

_May your stock crash and burn, assholes._

“Given your recent experiences, do you think humanity will ever get the respect it deserves from the galactic community?”

She had to hide a smirk, remembering Liara's words from before everything had gone to shit. Humanity as bullies, hmm? Well, with questions like these, how could she blame anyone for thinking that?

“Respect. You know, I've fought hard all my life for respect, as anyone who knows a single thing about me would realize. Respect from peers, from the public, from the Alliance. And what I've learned? Everyone has a different idea of what it means. Sometimes it doesn't look like what you expect it to. But it's never something you can demand. If it's not given, you earn it. And do I think we can earn it? Hell yeah, I do. I'm gonna do my part. Are you?”

Shepard couched the question directly to the reporter, not bothering to hide the challenge in it. She kept her easy smile.

“You're an idealist, Commander,” Al-Jilani said, instead of answering. “Rumors back home say you're tracking a 'rogue spectre' named Saren. Do you have any comment on that?”

Shepard stared at the video drone, making eye contact with it instead of the reporter. Right now she didn't care if she pissed off the Council. They'd set the damn precedent. “Yeah. I do. Saren attacked our colony on Eden Prime. The Council assigned me to bring him in, and that's what I'm going to do. No matter _what_ it takes.”

No matter who she had to fight, including the damn Council.

“That's surprising, Commander. The official line says that Eden Prime was attacked by rogue synthetics.”

Shepard smiled, lifting her shoulders in a shrug. “I'm not the official line, just the one who was there, that's all.”

“We've heard so much from how proud your family on Earth is of you regarding your appointment to Spectre, but nothing from your mother, Alliance Captain Shepard. What-”

Shepard interrupted briskly, somehow keeping her voice from shaking. Her insides had turned to ice. Somehow she managed to keep the facade and the smile, but it was a close call. “My mother's busy serving the Alliance. Doing good, important work. I'm very proud of her, and I know she's proud of me, too.” She let a laugh seep into her voice, head tilting to the side as she pulled out the smile. Charming and easy, the one that always worked. “If I can be even a quarter of the woman my mother is, then I've achieved more than most could dream of.”

“That's beautiful, Commander Shepard. Thank you for your time.”

“Of course, Miss Al-Jilani,” Shepard said as the drone shut off. “Now, remember your promise! Have a wonderful day.”

Still smiling, she turned and headed back. It slowly turned into a grimace, and as she approached she let it drop entirely, and rolled her eyes. Garrus chuckled.

“Save me from the fucking press,” she sighed.

“You handled yourself admirably, Shepard,” Liara said. “Some of those questions were quite combative.”

“Some?” she laughed, rolling her eyes. Gesturing for them to follow, she turned to head out to the Presidium at last.

“I wasn't aware you felt so strongly about your mother, Shepard, after our talk...” Liara paused awkwardly. “Perhaps I shouldn't say anything. I apologize.”

“Oh, no. Don't get me wrong, I respect the hell out of the Captain,” Shepard chuckled, not in the least bit offended. “She's gonna call me and yell at me for that later, though. I didn't do that for her. I did it to piss off the 'family on earth', which are not my family. They're just some people I happen to be related to. They're just trying to constantly find a way to cash in on my name. It's gross.”

“You complimented your mom to piss them off?” Garrus asked with a chuckle.

“Yeah, and also because it drives her nuts when I talk her up, it's hilarious. She's afraid someone's gonna try to promote her again,” Shepard said, not bothering to hide her slightly malicious amusement. “They keep trying, but she'd sooner cut off her nose than give up life on a ship. My mom finds me a bit too ambitious, I'm afraid. Sometimes I think she calls David behind my back and tells him to stop encouraging me.”

“Attachment to her ship? Hmm, who does that sound like?” Garrus said musingly.

“Jesus, Garrus, that's one step away from 'you sound like your mother', and that is the least sexy thing a man can say to a woman,” Shepard groused.

“Sensitive.”

“Okay, so if I start calling you Castis, you wouldn't mind,” she retorted sarcastically.

“You know what, forget I said anything,” Garrus said, and then paused. “Wait, how do you know my father's name?”

“You talked up his arrests, I was curious! Detectives are cool,” Shepard said defensively.

“Shepard, you don't just go looking up people's parents,” Liara scolded her.

“Well shit, if Liara's telling me I missteped, I guess I should listen,” Shepard quipped with a smile that Liara shared with her. She'd be more concerned if Garrus didn't just sound amused.

“You really should,” he drawled. His voice sobered up. “Speaking of, I think he's on duty today, let's steer clear. I'm not looking for a lecture.”

“Wait, you didn't tell me he was still with C-Sec! I thought he'd retired!” Shepard turned towards him, accusingly, walking half backwards.

“Not yet, he's stubborn like that,” Garrus said. “We avoid each other a lot.”

When she spun around fully and started going back towards C-Sec, he grabbed her by the arm and dragged her around. “No way, Shepard.”

“Oh come on, Garrus! I'm curious!” she said, and then scoffed as he swung her around and propelled her in their original direction with a push between her shoulderblades. “Rude.”

“We can't keep Captain Anderson waiting,” he told her, and then chuckled at her long, tired sigh.

The momentary cheer faded, and the reality of the situation sunk back in like a knife to the gut.

Right.

“Maybe he wants to help me drown my sorrows,” she muttered.

“Or maybe he can help,” Garrus countered.

They reached a train to the ward, and she shrugged her shoulders rather than replying. The rest of the trip was pretty quiet. She hadn't lost hope, not yet, but things were looking pretty grim right about now. In her silence, she pushed away that stupid, helpless feeling again, letting it turn back into anger. Anger was better.

The Council was going to regret this decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're having a good Thursday! No punching the reporter. I know, I'm disappointed, too.


	26. Chapter 26

Stunned, silenced, Shepard sat staring at Captain Anderson.

The busy chatter of Flux went on around them, neon lights spilling over the table, one of the girls brushing past Liara with a murmur of apology. The motion finally snapped her out of her daze.

“Wait, what?”

“I asked if you were ready to get off this station,” he replied.

“You believe me?” she asked weakly, expectations racing to catch up with reality. “I've got a laundry list of sins on my record right now, and-”

“Of course I do,” he said. “You think I wouldn't?”

Dumbfounded until she heard Garrus chuckle behind her, she blinked rapidly and shook her head. “I thought Udina would have my back, Captain. I'm feeling a little abandoned right now, sorry.”

“Udina,” Anderson said, shaking his head, voice disgusted. “Udina's only looking out for himself right now, Shepard. I know you. I know you're doing what you think is right.”

“I am,” she said in a small voice, taking a deep breath. She could feel Liara and Garrus at her back. He'd been right. There were people who still believed in her. “I- shit, Captain. What's our time frame? If it has to be now, I'll be ready, but I gave my people twenty-four and I'd have to send out a scramble to get everyone back on board.”

Anderson steepled his fingers together, leaning forward against the table. The bar around them was noisy, covering up their conversation, and she knew he wouldn't have called her here if there was a chance of them being tracked.

“Ambassador Udina has a meeting at oh-eight hundred that will take him away from his office. I can access his terminal and lift the lockdown, but it's going to be tight. You'll have to be ready to go as soon as it's lifted.”

“What about you, sir?” she asked uncertainly.

“You don't have the luxury of worrying about me right now, Faith, and neither do I. You need to get to Ilos.”

“But sir-”

“It's starting to sound like you don't want to get the bastard.”

Snapping to, she jerked her head up, shoulders squaring. No, he was right. He'd made the choice, and she needed to respect it. “No. I'm going to get the bastard, sir.”

“Anyone who isn't on board is going to have to be left behind. And you're going to have to keep this quiet. Do you understand?” Anderson asked.

“Yes, sir. Liara and Garrus won't say a word,” she said, and they both quietly offered their agreement. “I'll notify Joker first thing in the morning and have him on standby.”

“Good.”

As Anderson rose, she glanced over her shoulder at the other two. “Meet me out front?”

“No problem,” Garrus said with a nod that Liara echoed.

They left, and Faith rose, stepping around the table. She was expecting a clasp on the arm, but what she got was a brief, but bracing hug, Anderson slapping her on the shoulder. It was only a moment, but it was enough.

“I'm proud of you, Faith. Now see this through to the end.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, jaw tightening to fight back the tears. “Thank you for believing in me.”

“Keep proving people wrong. It's what you're best at.”

She grinned, nodding her head and stepping back. “Damn right I am, sir.”

Buoyed, earlier despair gone, she headed out of the bar, weaving her way through patrons. They had this. She could go and get Saren, and finish this damn thing once and for all, Council or no Council. She'd save their goddamn lives, and then she'd only rub their noses in it a little.

Shepard would have to remember to call the reporter Wong after this. She'd prefer her to that Al-Jilani woman any day of the week, and she'd need a big fat speech for kicking a reaper's ass. Delusion? Pff. She'd bring it to 'em in pieces if that's what it took.

Garrus was leaning against the wall outside the bar, talking to Liara as she stepped out. Their attention shifted, and she lifted a finger as his mouth opened, padding down the stairs.

“If it's any form of 'I told you so', cram it up your ass, Vakarian.”

“I told you so,” he replied.

“Smug bastard,” she sighed, and then smiled, lifting a hand to her forehead. “So I don't need to repeat how vital it is that this stay completely silent?”

“We understand, Shepard,” Liara assured.

“Great. Okay. I think that's the last bit of 'official' business I've got to handle. Any plans?”

“I was invited to meet Tali and Ashley,” Liara said, sounding vaguely surprised by that fact. “If you're certain you don't need anything else, Shepard...”

“No. That's good, I'm glad things are working out. Have fun,” Shepard said, and they said their goodbyes. Once Liara was gone, she tilted her head to the side at Garrus. They started walking together, side by side. “I'm going to head to the hospital. How about you? Gonna go out for a while? Find some company?”

“Would that bother you?”

Rather than just saying 'no', she took a minute to think about it. They'd discussed it briefly, yeah, and honestly she hadn't really spent enough time thinking about their 'thing' to find out if she'd be jealous or not. But then again, this was probably sort of their last hurrah, wasn't it?

As soon as they had Saren...

What did it matter if she did get jealous? Why should that stop him, why should she tell him if she was, when it was all over soon? What good would that do except make things weird when she needed him more now than ever?

She knew he wasn't fond of the lying, but this wasn't exactly a lie- because she wasn't going to find out if it was true or not.

“Nah. I don't really get jealous,” she said easily, cracking a small smile. “Just be safe.”

“Are you...”

“Probably,” she admitted with a shrug, eyes on the way ahead instead of him.

“Should we ah- talk about any ground rules, or...” He was doing that awkward thing again, which should have been cute. She was in an odd mood, though.

Shepard kept her voice light, flippant. “I don't really see why we need to. Can you really think of any?”

“Is...there anyone you spend time with regularly?”

“No, Garrus,” she laughed. “If I sleep with the same person twice it's generally on accident.”

“I can work with that,” he said quietly.

“I didn't ask you to-”

“I can't ask something of you unless I do it myself,” he contradicted her. “Hey.”

When he caught her arm, she blew out a sigh and let him stall her. He released her as soon as she stopped, and she finally glanced up and aside at him. “What?”

“You sure you're okay with this? You seemed angry the first time we talked about it.”

Trying to be honest, she let out a little sigh. “Pissed at the situation, not you, Cowboy. I just want you to go have fun, okay? Stop worrying so much about me. We're good. And tomorrow, we're gonna go kick some ass, huh?”

“You're damn right,” Garrus said, and they shared a smile. It eased the weird, complicated feelings a little. “You have fun, too, huh? You deserve it, today was a mess. Just be careful.”

“One drink limit. I don't want to get sloppy, either. Maybe message me where you end up, though, because it would be weird if we end up hunting the same spot, Cowboy.”

He glanced in both directions, and then fell silent. She raised an eyebrow, but he shook his head at her, lifting his chin. A small group of humans turned a corner and walked past them, and even only standing shoulder to shoulder they got some looks as the people passed by. She fought the urge to roll her eyes.

He was being way too paranoid about what people thought.

Once they were past, and he'd watched them go, she let out an exasperated sigh. “Really?”

“I'll message you,” he said, rather than answering her question. Annoyed, she still allowed the side-hug, mostly because she was now aware the stroke of his hand from her hip up the curve of her waist was him copping a feel. It soothed away her frustration.

“Pretty bold for a guy who won't even hold my hand,” she teased.

“Give me a chance to get you in private tomorrow and that's not all I'll hold,” he retorted, and then dropped his hand.

She squeaked in surprise as he grabbed her ass, a brief squeeze that ended as he walked past her. Bemused, but pleased, she still shot him a glare when he turned around, walking backwards. It was the principle of the thing.

“Don't get cocky, Vakarian.”

“Too late, Trouble. Message me when you get back to the ship?”

“I'll probably see you when it's time to head out?” she said, puzzled.

He paused again. “You plan to stay the night with someone?”

“Seems kinda rude to cut and run, doesn't it?”

Stepping back in closer, Garrus lowered his voice. “This might be one of those cultural difference things- it's usually considered rude to hang around unless you're- you know, interested in more than just sex. I guess I was just assuming we'd be going to sleep together again.”

“I'll be fine,” she promised, smiling lightly. She didn't feel fine, though, and she really wanted this conversation to be over. “I'll see you in the morning.”

There was a pause, and then he nodded, straightening up. “Sure. Okay.”

“Bye. Have fun.”

“Yeah,” he said.

She watched him go, knowing she should probably say something that would make him less annoyed. But she didn't. Instead, she headed off to the hospital, shoving down all the weird, complicated feelings to deal with later. Or never. Never sounded good right about now.

Emi was delighted to see her, and she even put up with being used as ammo against Beth (who was pretty annoying, honestly) and several rounds of getting her ass kicked by small children in Mega Mega Death Matches. The nurses seemed happy to see her, and while there was a turian kiddo in the ward, at least she was small and couldn't reach high enough to get at anything uncovered. Ship decontamination would take care of anything that got on her armor that a quick wipe-down afterward didn't get.

Turian kids were admittedly pretty cute, but kids would be kids and everything went in their mouths, including the little taloned hands that had clung to her knee.

She dipped out at dinner time, heading back through the Presidium while fighting back the lurking dread. Exposure should have made it easier, but maybe it was good that it hadn't. She could _not_ afford to be sloppy. She was even second-guessing the thought of going out to a bar.

Asking Garrus if there were any non-turian bars would have probably been okay and not offended him, but she didn't feel like talking to him. He'd texted her his location, told her he was out with some C-Sec buddies. She hadn't responded. Honestly, she probably wasn't going to.

Her mood soured even further when she was heading towards the air cars and realized there was a protest going on. Human protest. Oh god, it was the Earth First assholes. Oh no, oh no. She really wished she was wearing a helmet right now.

After Al-Jilani noticed her by sight, she couldn't guarantee these chucklefucks wouldn't, too.

Mood fouling more by the second, she picked up her pace and cut through the crowd, ignoring every look cast in her direction. By the time she'd made it through, she heard some whispering behind her, and then someone calling her name in the distance, trying to get her attention.

Shit, shit.

Picking up her pace, she was heading for the air cars when she noticed there wasn't one in. It meant she'd have to wait a minute for one to come back, and whoever that was would catch her. A door to her left slid open at her approach, and she slipped through it, pressing her back to the wall next to it as it closed with a puff of air. God, don't let them find her.

She couldn't deal with anything else to-

“Commander Shepard?”

Blinking, she glanced up and over, meeting Doctor Michel's eyes. Oh, right, this was the clinic. Clearing her throat, feeling her cheeks turn pink, she admitted, “someone I didn't want to talk to. Sorry, you must think I'm so immature.”

The doctor laughed softly. “Oh, no. I understand. Is it about the protest?”

Shepard wrinkled her nose, nodding her head. “I did not want to get into it with them. I'd probably say something- boy, I hope you're not an Earth-Firster- I'd probably say something super rude, I've had a day and a half.”

“I would think being friends with Garrus would prove that I'm not,” Michel laughed softly. “No, I had to shoo one of them out earlier- a politician trying to drum up votes.”

Right. She'd almost forgotten they were friends, Garrus hadn't been with her last time she'd talked to Michel. Talking to Kahoku about the guy that had been trying to blackmail the doc had sort of fallen out of her head when the Admiral had been found dead.

Shepard pushed off the wall with a foot and sauntered over, after one last glance at the doors. “Oof. As if you don't have enough to deal with without that nonsense- speaking of. I know it's over and done, but I looked into the guy that was giving you trouble. Banes? His body was recovered, so you're safe.”

Doctor Michel let out a long sigh, nodding her head. “I hate to say that I am relieved someone is dead, but...thank you. I'm glad to know there won't be any further trouble. I really do owe you a debt for all you've done for me.” Her voice softened at the end, and their eyes met. Pretty eyes. She always wished she had green eyes.

Shepard crossed her arms again, flashing a lazy smile as she shrugged both shoulders. “Hey, I'm happy to help. It's sort of my thing, you know. Balancing my scales for all the times I've gotta be a bastard.”

“You?” Doctor Michel asked, smiling softly. There was something in the edge of it that was fun, and familiar. Hmm. “I can't imagine that you've done anything too terrible, Shepard. At least not to anyone who didn't deserve it.”

A pleasant lilt to her voice, and a familiar accent. French. Knowing with translators it wouldn't matter anyways, she still switched languages because hell, the practice was good. Besides, the translator switched her in-feed when she did, and she kind of liked hearing her voice in the language it was meant to be in.

“Hey,” she said with a laugh, tilting her head to the side. “Please, you can call me Faith. We're friends, aren't we?”

“It would be my honor,” she said, sounding surprised. When she smiled again, it was with a tip of her head. “Well then, I would be delighted if you would call me Chloe, Faith.”

Shepard smiled slowly, head tilting to the side. “That's a beautiful name. Daphnis et Chloe is one of my favorite ballets.”

“You enjoy ballet?”

The genuine surprise made Shepard laugh, and Chloe looked a little embarrassed. She let her voice go lazy, more intimate. “I know. I don't seem like it, but yeah, I could talk about it for ages. I danced for years. It was recommended by my gymnastics coach. Madame always said I had perfect legs for ballet.”

Yeah, there it was. The slight lean in, the tilt of the head. There was a part of her brain that informed her that she really shouldn't be doing this. Wrong person, wrong situation, wrong reasons. She turned that part of her brain off. It could shut the hell up right now.

“I'm sure you do. I danced when I was very small, myself, but I was too clumsy. I do enjoy watching it still, however. Even if it's not quite a popular art form these days.”

“I'm a fan of the classics. Well hell,” Shepard stepped back and glanced around the currently-empty clinic. Yeah, seemed like a good time. “I'd love to buy you a drink and have a chat, if you've got the time for me. I understand completely if you d-”

“I would love that,” Chloe said, and then laughed softly. “Though I believe I may owe _you_ the drink, Faith.”

She winked. “Maybe I'm keeping that in my back pocket for later. Never know when you might need to ask a gorgeous woman to buy you a drink. Or, I don't know. Breakfast?”

Chloe laughed, cheeks flushing red as she dropped her head.

Somewhere in her head was the continued, annoying insistence of her conscience that she was trying to shove back in its box. A drink or two would help shut it up for the night. Or three. Or four.

She knew this might piss Garrus off.

And she did it anyways.

Faith never messaged him back.

He shouldn't have let it affect his night, but she'd been a little strange. It should have felt good, to shrug it all off for a while, have a few drinks with people he hadn't seen since this mess started, and spend a couple hours with a nice enough asari who had recently arrived from Illium to leave the corporate life behind for politics. He didn't know much about her besides that.

Didn't really need to.

She'd shown her interest after about thirty seconds of conversation, and considering how straightforward she'd been about it, he figured she had some experience with turians. That had definitely proven to be true. It'd been enjoyable enough on a purely physical level- she definitely wasn't interested in him for his conversational skills, that was for sure. She'd made that pretty clear.

He'd been shown the door the instant he'd gotten dressed.

It didn't bother him, in fact, he actually preferred it that way. Kept things from getting messy, especially his head, which instantly switched back over to worry when he'd checked his omni-tool on the way back to the ship and found no messages waiting for him.

Humans were different. He had to remember that, and not get too upset about it- but her spending the entire night with someone else felt wrong. Maybe she separated it differently than him, but for him that crossed the line from sex into intimacy, and his brain insisted that was something that belonged to _them_.

It'd be fine. It was just one night. It wasn't anything more than that, and they had bigger things to worry about. At any rate, he was feeling a lot less pent up now, which meant he could be there for Faith without his head being too caught up in things that were dangerous for her at best, and impossible at worst.

Hopefully she'd be feeling better, too.

He managed a little sleep once he stopped worrying about why she hadn't messaged him, and woke up as usual at about six, ship time. Two hours till they had to go. He went down and got in his armor, checked over his guns, keeping an eye on who was arriving back on board.

When he returned to the mess to get some breakfast, the table was amusingly occupied by what looked like a half dozen hung-over women and one asari.

Ash was lying with her forehead on her arm, and Tali was unhappily nursing a pouch of nutrient paste instead of the turian rations- which probably meant an upset stomach.

“Had a good time?” he asked, and grinned at the tired look Liara gave him, fingers massaging her temple slowly.

“Girl's night went terribly, terribly wrong,” Ash groaned into her arm.

“Or terribly right, depending on how you look at it,” Tali said, sounding better than Ash at least. She must have learned her lesson last time.

“I don't like tequila,” Anand groaned, clutching a bottle of water. “Why did I let you convince me to take those shots?”

“Because I needed someone to be stupid with,” Ash mumbled.

He kept his voice casual. “Did the Commander join you?”

“No, she had her comms off,” Tali said. “I thought she was with you.”

“I was out with some guys from C-Sec. The few I actually get along with,” he said, pulling down something to eat and tossing it in to heat. “Though it seems I missed the real party.”

“I'm going to throw up again.” Anand slid from her seat and bolted out of the room at a stagger.

“It's girls' night, Garrus, you're not a girl,” Tali said.

“Then why did Liara get to go?”

“Asari are girls,” Ash said.

“Not technically,” Liara said. “We are monogendered, and therefore there is no need to differentiate as other species do. I suppose if you were to more accurately identify us by standard human gender norms, we might be considered non-binary, but even that isn't accurate considering that there _is_ no binary. We just happen to fit other races' ideal of what a female is, and thus language-”

“Oh god Liara I am so sorry, but I am too hung over for this,” Ash groaned.

“No offense taken. I am as well,” Liara sighed, still rubbing her temple. "By the goddess..."

Amused, he dropped the subject, grabbing his food and settling down in one of the unoccupied chairs. People filtered in, and he wondered if anyone would get left behind. He knew Shepard wouldn't like it, but they were stuck between a rock and a hard place.

All of their comms beeped with the expected orders at seven on the dot, commanding everyone to get back to the ship. The notice was followed by Shepard herself, who looked far more put-together than her crew. Her hair was dark, still wet from a shower, he assumed, in her under-armor suit. She hadn't even gone back to the ship to change, then.

Her gaze scanned the table as she passed through the mess, lips quirking into an amused half-smile.

“Hey, Skipper,” Ash groaned after tilting her head to the side and cracking open an eye.

“Lookin' good,” she replied with a laugh in her voice. “Doc's not up yet?”

“No.”

Shepard's gaze finished skating the length of the table, and he tried to catch her eyes. Her stare skipped past him like she hadn't even seen him there, and he frowned as she continued on her way and left the mess. Okay. That'd been strange.

Was she upset with him?

When she still hadn't emerged even after he'd finished his breakfast, he decided to make the call. Not having things out right away bothered him. He knew he could be impatient, but in this case at least it felt warranted. That had been very not like Faith.

He found a quiet place after saying his goodbyes, and dialed up her comm address. When the call immediately disconnected, it wasn't difficult to tell she'd rejected it. She had a habit of doing that when she was upset, he'd noticed. If she'd just ignored the call, he wouldn't have minded, but she'd pointedly disconnected it.

Fine.

He'd keep trying, then.

It was on the fourth one that she picked up, voice neutral and flat. “What?”

“Well, I was hoping I could find out why you're upset with me. You told me you weren't going to close me out yesterday, Faith.”

She heaved a long, tired sigh and fell silent. It went on so long that he was about to say something, but finally she spoke again. “I don't mean to lash out at you. Except I do. It seems to be a reoccurring theme.”

The fact that she was talking about it was a relief. “Well, last time we were lashing out at each other, Trouble. It's kind of one-sided this time.”

“Yeah, uh. I'm not talking about me snapping at you.”

“Well, ignoring me when you got in was hurtful, but-”

“I wasn't talking about that,” she replied quietly. “Listen, I'm...I hate this, okay? It sucks. And, I don't know. I'm having a hard time putting it into words. I just don't want to talk about it.”

Confused and frustrated, he reached up and rubbed his temple. “Are we going to go through this again? I know you have trouble opening up, but I'm lost. Can you explain what's going on?”

“I don't know if I can,” she sighed tiredly. “I don't know why I do half the impulsive, self-destructive shit I do, Garrus. I don't know why I'm so fucked up sometimes.”

“It couldn't have been that bad, could it? I'm pretty sure you can't get a marriage license in such a small amount of time,” he joked, trying to keep his voice light despite the pit in his stomach. “Or...don't tell me you lost the ship gambling, Trouble.”

She didn't laugh. “Can we talk later? I'm about to tank my entire career in one fell swoop and I need the whole ship to believe I believe in me right now. I can't go into this thinking about this shit.”

“As long as you promise we'll talk,” he said.

“Sure,” she mumbled. “We'll talk.”

The call ended abruptly, leaving him staring at his omni-tool with an uneasy dread overtaking him.

What had she done?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday! :D


	27. Chapter 27

Shepard had fucked up.

Why, she couldn't say. It'd take a long call with Amanda to sort it out, probably, or being honest with herself and trying to untangle it, and neither of those things were something she wanted to do. She just knew that she had, and in the moment she'd chosen it deliberately, and it probably meant that she was even worse than she was acknowledging. It wasn't an accident.

She had made a choice, and she needed to own up to it.

Maybe that was what she wanted all along- to fuck things up with Garrus.

Apologizing when she'd screwed up was a skill she'd worked hard at, but it was hard to apologize when it wasn't a single mistake, but a long series of them that had lasted the entirety of a night. It was a big apology. It was probably not something she could come back from, but she owed it to him to be honest about it.

It was time to put it aside until later.

When she reached the bridge Joker was already there, which wasn't a surprise. He was angry. Not at her, but angry in general, and she knew no one would bother him up here, especially not on a locked down ship. Wandering to Kai- to the LT's station, she slumped down in the chair, slinging her legs over the side. He was listening to the station chatter, staring at the orange, blanked-out console.

Locked down.

She stared at the side of Joker's face until he sighed, reaching up and scratching a hand through his stubble.

“I'm not pissed at you.”

“I know. You wanna steal a ship, Joker?”

“Oh yeah, what are we gonna do, board someone else?” he asked sarcastically. “I know you have a pirate obsession, Shepard, but I'm not in any hurry to walk the damn plank.”

“Eh, I'm just kind of feeling like it's time to break the rules,” she said, crossing her ankles.

“You?” he asked, glancing over at her. “No offense, Shepard, but I've known you to try and weasel your way around rules, but not _break_ them.”

“This is more important than my career.”

Reaching up, he stuck a pinky finger in his ear, twisting it around. She rolled her eyes. Dropping his hand, Joker stared at her. “Are you feeling okay? Replaced with a robot, maybe?”

“Captain Anderson's dropping the lockdown at oh eight hundred,” she said quietly, and his stare got more intense, eyes widening in shock. “You wanna steal a ship, Joker?”

Their eyes held, and the shock faded from his. “You know what this means for you. Not for us, Shepard, for you. We're the ones following orders.”

“Yeah, I do,” she said, voice cracking. “I know what it means. And I'm doing it, Joker.”

He nodded, turning his attention away again. There was a hint of a smile on his face now. “I'm with you, Commander.”

“You're my favorite brother,” she told him fondly, and he gave a rough laugh.

“I'm your only brother,” he said quietly.

“Yeah, not a lot of competition,” she allowed, checking the time with a tilt of her head. “If everyone doesn't make it back in time, we have to leave anyways. We're still down eight people, but I just sent out the call twenty minutes ago.”

“Well, they've got forty to make it- we might be spread a little thin without them, but we'll be fine. Tali could take over for the missing engineers,” Joker said, bringing up the ship roster.

They watched it in silence as people pinged in, one by one, minutes rolling by. They were still down two when she called the skeleton crew to stations, just enough to get them off the planet. She wasn't going to tell anyone else what was going on until they were long gone- plausible deniability.

When Pressley came to the bridge, she shifted up to her knees and peered over the back down the way to him.

“Commander?”

“We're heading out,” her mind raced, trying to think of a place that would be plausible to be heading right now. “For Newton, to look in on that info we came across on Noveria.”

“I'm glad the Alliance saw reason, Commander. Never doubted you,” he said. She wondered if he meant it, or if he'd already realized what was happening. It didn't matter.

He was here, and he wasn't questioning her.

Two minutes to oh eight hundred and they were still missing an engineer and one of the marines. It was too late. Slinging herself back down LT's seat, and then standing up properly, she nodded to Joker. “Get ready.”

“Oh, I am,” he said, flashing her a quick grin. “They should have known better than to try and take our ship.”

“It's a pirate's life for me, Joker,” she said with a wink. With a saunter to her step, she headed between the duty stations, greeting those that were settled in. No comms. She didn't need anyone announcing their departure.

“Commander, we're still down two crew,” Pressley said as she approached the CIC.

Splaying her hands against the edge, Shepard leaned her weight on one foot, staring at their lit up destination. “Yep.”

“An hour's notice is pretty short after a shore leave, Commander.”

“Yep,” she said again.

“Good,” Pressley said simply. When she glanced up at him sidelong, head lowered, he was staring at the CIC intently. “Sometimes it's about doing what has to be done even when they get in your way, ma'am.”

Shepard smiled slowly, letting the warmth of that acknowledgment overtake her, pushing away all the other bad feelings. People believed in her. Anderson believed in her, her crew believed in her. “I have a responsibility to the spirit of my position, Pressley. Even if it means losing it,” she said, giving a slow nod of her head. “Every life lost to my inaction is a stain against my goddamn soul.”

“Religious?”

She shook her head lightly. “I like the blasphemy, not the piety.” Shepard smiled faintly at his chuckle. “I believe in people. Belief is just a choice you make as hard as you can and as often as you have to. They'll understand once I give them a reason to, and no one will suffer for what I had to do to get that reason. I believe it.”

“Commander!”

Turning around, she rushed to the front of the ship again, grabbing the back of Joker's chair. She heard the release of the locking mechanisms outside, the console in front of him giving a flickering electronic beep as it clarified. They both grinned.

“Get us the hell out of here, Joker.”

Clutching the back of the chair, she watched as he did what he was meant to do- fly. They rocketed out of the station in seconds, soaring between the arms of the wards, out for open space and infinite stars. Joker laughed as the comms started going off, a panicked turian voice demanding to know why the Normandy was departing unscheduled. She leaned forward around the pilot's chair and turned it off.

Shepard couldn't really relax until they were through the mass relay and on their way to Newton. She needed to touch base with the crew and make plans, so it was as good a destination as any, and only six hours from the relay to their dest. A quick trip.

The instant they were through and heading for her dest, she reached for the ship comms. Time to be honest.

Slumping down in Kaidan's chair, she tried to gather her thoughts.

“Good morning, folks. Sorry about the short notice, I just stole the Normandy.” Letting that sink in, she grinned to herself, crossing her ankles. “We've got work to do. I'm not going to let bureaucracy stop us from saving the damn galaxy. They haven't seen what we've seen. They're afraid of the idea it might be real, and what that means for everyone. I get that. But I won't let fear stop us.”

She muted herself briefly to clear her throat, and then turned it back on. “Sometimes you have to save people from themselves. This is one of those times. History will exonerate us, and we will succeed. I know every individual on board this ship believes in our mission, and I am honored by every single one of you that chooses to remain fighting by my side. Shepard out.”

“Like you gave 'em a choice,” Joker muttered.

“I like forgiveness, not permission,” she quipped, though the phrase was poorly timed.

Right, she had an apology to make.

Shit.

Garrus now understood what Shepard had meant when she said she hated waiting when people said they needed to talk.

Every catastrophic idea his brain could dredge up was worse than the one before, piling on each other no matter how he tried to push it aside. It hadn't even been an hour. Who knew how much worse it would get.

His brain was starting to wander in some pretty dark directions when he heard her voice over the comms. Pulling himself out of his cleaning of the Volkov, he listened to her speak. Confident, calm, warm- just a hint of humor. All Commander Shepard. Very different than how she'd sounded when they spoke earlier.

It never ceased to amaze him how she could do that- inspire people while dealing with so much on the inside.

Whatever she'd done couldn't be that bad. She'd feel better once they'd talked it out. At least she was willing to talk, instead of closing him out.

When his omni-tool beeped, he picked up the call almost without thinking.

“My door's unlocked, can you go wait for me? I'll be right there,” she said quietly, sounding more like she had before, but more in control.

“Sure,” he agreed, starting to put his things away. “That was a good speech.”

“It wasn't my best. I probably should have given people the option before we left, but...couldn't risk it.”

The call ended before he could respond.

Frowning to himself, he put his gun away and pulled out his gloves. Better to be safe, even if they were just going to have a talk. He eyed the helmet for a few seconds before grabbing it as well. It'd be reckless not to take it.

The mess was busy, full of people and noise as they frantically gossiped about what was happening. He didn't pay them much attention, though he still listened out as he skirted the space, trying to avoid attention. It didn't sound like anyone was against it- in fact, they seemed excited. Definitely wouldn't have been the case on a Turian vessel.

At least the corridor between the sleep pods that headed to Shepard's quarters was empty. He slipped through the door, glancing around himself as he passed through the space. He understood why the Normandy didn't have real crew quarters- it was a small, fast stealth ship- but it was a shame. At least his pod had been retrofitted to be comfortable for him.

He moved to the edge of the bed and sat down, settling the helmet next to him. The room was pretty bare, lacking in any personal touches of any sort. He knew she'd grown up moving from ship to ship- maybe she just wasn't used to having a lot of things.

It took a couple minutes before the door slid open, while he was fighting not to let his brain go wandering into catastrophizing again.

Faith entered with a focused, sober look on her face. At least this time she met his eyes, forthrightly, but she paused between the office and bedroom, fingers curling against the edge of the divider. He patted the bed, and she shook her head.

“It can't be that bad.”

“That isn't for me to decide, it's for you to decide,” she said quietly. “I made a mistake yesterday, Garrus.”

He felt his stomach drop. “When you phrase it like that, star, you make it sound pretty dire.”

She actually flinched at his words, glancing aside finally, eyes falling to the floor. “Yeah, well. I went out with Chloe Michel yesterday- I ran into her after I went to the hospital.”

For a moment he was relieved that was all she had to say, and then the implication sunk in.

“I went _home_ with Chloe Michel,” she confirmed, continuing on unrelentingly as his mind went blank. “I did it knowing full well that it wasn't what we'd discussed, and that she was a friend of yours. It wasn't a stupid mistake, I wasn't drunk, it wasn't...accidental. I'm not going to try and make it sound like it wasn't a bad thing. I made the choice, knowing it would upset you. There isn't any excuse for it, just an apology. I'm sorry.”

Still struggling to wrap his head around it, all he could ask was- “why?”

“Who knows why I do any of the stupid shit I do?” she dismissed, voice going harsh.

“Well, I think you would,” he said, and she shrugged defensively.

Shepard didn't say anything else, staring at the floor.

Garrus tried to process what she'd just said, hands folding together as he rested his arms on his knees. His feelings about it, yeah, but also the idea itself. Her apology sounded sincere, but it was also matter-of-fact, aggressive. Almost like a challenge.

“I don't know what you expect me to say.”

It seemed to unsettle her, because she abruptly pushed off the wall, starting to pace. “I don't know what I expect you to say. Yell, maybe?”

He tried flippant, but it came out too quiet. “Well, I didn't specifically say 'hey, could you not have sex with my friends?' so maybe that's my fault.”

“Don't be understanding,” she said, voice sharpening.

He watched her cross the small space, over and over, arms crossing over his chest as he leaned back. It almost felt like... “Do you _want_ me to be angry at you?”

Her voice was cold and sarcastic. “Anyone with half a brain would be.”

“Okay, you want me to be angry at you,” he surmised, searching his own feelings. Yes, he felt betrayed. Yeah, it was awkward and weird and she'd made a pretty deliberately hurtful choice. It wasn't like he had a right to tell her what she could and couldn't do. But... “We did agree that we'd find someone we wouldn't have to see again, didn't we?”

“And I did,” she said simply, pausing with her back to him, a hand on the near-invisible door of her closet. “She's _your_ friend. Not mine. I just spent the night, Garrus, I didn't give her a fucking ring.”

Garrus didn't know what to say to that. He just knew it hurt. Weirdly enough, it didn't hurt just for him, but for Chloe, too. Spending a whole night with someone _meant_ something, and she was just...dismissing that. “Wow. That's cold.”

“What does it matter? You fucked around and then bailed, too. I admit my choice of people was shitty, and I apologized for that. But it's all the same, really.”

He took a second to just absorb that, watching her back. He took a few moments, thinking about what she'd brought up, what she'd said. What he'd said and done. “Faith, sex- of course I enjoy it, and it's- but that doesn't mean it was meaningful.”

“So it doesn't mean anything to you,” she said icily.

“I could walk into a club and...have sex with a dozen people in a row and it wouldn't mean even a fraction of what it means to me to be with you while you fall sleep. Can you honestly look at me and say she understands completely that it was a one-time thing, that you never want to see her again? I might 'fuck around', star, but at least I'm honest about it.”

Her shoulders slumped, head falling forward. He stayed where he was, still feeling raw and betrayed. Understanding didn't make it go away. And he understood now, way too well.

Garrus put it into words, finally. “You were trying to hurt yourself.”

“I was trying to hurt you,” she countered.

“No, I think I was right. I asked you not to do this. I asked you not to use me to hurt yourself.”

“Physically,” she said faintly.

“Don't go bending _our_ rules now.” His voice was a little harsher than he'd intended. The sentiment was harsh. He couldn't believe she'd used it against him. “You made a promise. You broke it.”

“Oh _that's_ what you get angry about,” she said, throwing her hands up as she paced. “Not that I fucked Chloe, or that I stayed out all night, or that I was a fucking asshole to you.”

“I asked for _one_ promise. One! I haven't asked for anything else! I wanted you to come back last night, but I let it go.” He rose to his feet finally, lifting his hands as she prowled angrily. “I've only asked you for one thing! And you can't even give _that_ to me!”

“You should have asked me to come back!” she shouted, stalling, half-turned towards him. “I saw that you wanted to, and you didn't!”

He drew himself up, emotions surging. Well, she'd done it. Now he _was_ angry. “So now this is _my_ fault?”

“No! It's my fault. It's _always_ my fault. God damn it, Garrus. I am the one who's fucked up. I'm the one who can't fucking give you up!” Her voice broke, crackling with pain as she stared at him. He saw the tears well, spill down her freckled cheeks. “Why won't you hate me? Tell me you're done, please. Tell me you're done.”

“Is that what you want?” he asked, trying to hide the hurt and knowing it came out anyways.

“No, you idiot!” she snapped, pressing the heels of her hands into her temples. “Don't you get it? I told you. I can't _beat_ this!”

“So you're going to destroy it? If you can't win, you throw the whole thing out? There's still good here, star! I know it's not perfect, but it's _something_!”

Faith shook her head violently. “What does it matter?! It's all going to end! So why not let it end now, before you're hurt any more?!” she shouted, hands clenching into fists.

“Because I need to be with you _until_ the end!”

It was reckless, but his temper had snapped and her pain was thrumming in his chest like a second, broken heartbeat. He surged towards her, ignoring everything as his gloved hands grasped her tear-stained cheeks. Holding his breath, he stalled his sudden surge, thumb sliding under her chin.

Gently he tilted her head up, until her bare forehead met his.

She inhaled, a shudder.

The contact sent a spark down his spine, fear and pleasure twisting together into something complicated and right, but so painful. It was all of it, it was messed up and beautiful and he couldn't say the words because he knew they would hurt her. So he just held her.

A wrong move away from death, terrified he would breathe out and kill her, he held her- he hurt her.

Apparently that was what she needed right now.

She broke down.

Tears spilled over his gloved fingers. He tilted his head to the side, breaking the contact, and pulled her in against his shoulder. She clung to him, fingers digging in when they found places to. He wrapped her up tightly, relieved but still bruised. She smelled wrong, and it dug that little spike of pain a little deeper. Whatever the soap she used on her hair was completely different than how she smelled right now.

“I'm sorry,” she sobbed, voice quavering over the words.

Somehow he managed to dredge up the words, though they hurt. He wanted to, but- “I can't forgive you right now. But I'll work on it.”

Her back shuddered as she inhaled. “I should let you go. I should just stop doing this, and let you go. We're hurting each other- we're hurting ourselves.”

She was right, and he should let _her_ go, but... His arms tightened. “Don't.”

“Why isn't one of us stronger?” she laughed brokenly.

He sighed out slowly, settling down on the floor, leaning against the bed. She followed the movement, collapsing and molding herself against him. She was so soft and warm. He couldn't let her do this right now.

“I don't know. Faith, I'm not wearing my helmet. You need to go clean yourself off, I can't live with myself if I almost kill you again. We can't trust anything.”

“I'm fine,” she mumbled, fingers digging a little tighter.

“I'm going to be honest right now, and I'm sorry, but I don't know if it's soap, or what, but you smell like her and it's really bothering me right now,” he said quietly. “If you care about the fact that you've hurt me, please.”

She froze, and then let out a long, slow sigh. The fingers clutching him desperately eased up, and then released him. Shepard swayed to her feet, back to him. Her head dropped.

“Are you going to be gone when I get out?”

“Probably,” he admitted, knowing he needed some time to figure out just what the hell he was thinking and feeling. “But that doesn't mean I don't have your back. Can you do me a favor, star?”

“What?” she asked faintly.

“Can you call Amanda, please? Do that for me. If you want to fix this, do that for me. Because I can't stand seeing you like this, and I can't help.”

There was a small pause, but finally she nodded. “Okay.”

“Thanks.”

He waited until he heard the shower turn on, and then he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if anyone particularly cares, but I've made my playlist for the story public [ over here ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4sLT43FRa0wkMal7CxYk9z)so you can listen if you like. <3 I hope your weekend is going well!


	28. Chapter 28

Unprecedented stress.

Had she finally cracked? No, this wasn't her losing her mind, it was him. It had to be.

“Commander?”

The face in front of Shepard swam, blurring, indistinct. No, no. It couldn't possibly be him, it couldn't possibly-

“You _died_.”

It wasn't her saying it.

Corporal Toombs...he was alive.

She swallowed, snapping to, forcing the shock away. There was a job to do. Glancing down and aside, she gestured with one hand flat towards the floor. Ash and Garrus lowered their weapons. The man across from her with his gun to the head of the terrified scientist almost did the same, she saw the twitch, the instinct.

Almost following her orders- he was still in there.

They'd fought their way through the mercenaries, trying to save an Alliance scientist possibly in grave danger. Except the danger was him right now. She didn't understand, but she needed to.

“So did _you_ ,” she finally said, dragging her stare back up to his face. “Chris...how did you get here? What's going on?”

“They kidnapped me. They've been experimenting on me, Shep. Please. Please help me,” he begged, eyes wild, hand shaking. Obviously not himself. Obviously on the edge of breaking.

“You can't prove any of this! This man is delusional!” the scientist shouted, high and terrified.

Those weren't the words of an innocent man.

The pistol came up almost before she realized it was in her hand, and now both of them were pointing a gun at the scientist. Shepard's eyes shifted aside. “I'm speaking to one of my soldiers. You can shut up now.”

How? How had he gotten off of Akuze. How had he _survived_ Akuze? He was a name on a monument now, just a name. But he was here. He was _here_.

“Shepard, they were running tests. They were running tests on the thresher maws. They set them on us,” Corporal Toombs said, hand shaking. “I woke up in a holding cell- they were so glad someone survived. They had someone to run more tests on.”

_They set them on us._

Her hand shifted.

No.

The Alliance wouldn't do that, top secret project or no. Would they?

Breathing in through her nose, she pulled her finger back off of the trigger. “I would have come back for you if I'd known. I would have come back, Chris.”

_Just her and the bodies._

The scientist started speaking, and then stared between their guns and fell silent.

“They're part of some organization, some secret organization. Cerberus. They've been torturing me for months, treated me like a lab rat-” Toombs' voice cut off.

Cerberus- not Alliance.

But she couldn't be relieved at that.

_Those_ bastards. And they'd been the ones who killed her people- they'd killed her squad. They'd killed her squad!

“This man deserves to die, Shepard," Chris insisted.

_He does. They all do._

His hand tightened, but he didn't reach for the trigger. He needed her to agree, to approve. To give him orders. “For you. For me. For everyone else in the unit. Are you with me?” It was a plea.

_Yes._

No.

A quiet voice spoke in her mind, a memory from a miserable last night. “In times of unprecedented stress, Faith, your worst impulses will be louder than ever. You've worked so hard to fight them, but it's now that you prove that you can win the war. You are the only one that can stop them. You're the only one who can stop this self-destructive cycle you're in.”

_Thank you, Amanda._

The insidious voice in her head faded away, and she was in control again.

Shepard might not be a good person, but she could choose to be.

“Stand down, Corporal. This man deserves far worse than death, he deserves justice. He knows things that will take down the people who give orders. The people who killed our squad. Death isn't justice. You know that as much as I do. You're better than this.”

“You don't know me! You don't know what I've been through!” he spat at her, but she could see his grip on the gun hadn't shifted. He wasn't going to shoot.

Not yet.

“Christopher Reid Toombs. You have two younger brothers, and a single mom, like me. You hated the Salisbury steak m-rations, and you were always quitting smoking 'tomorrow',” she replied with calm confidence, even as she crumbled on the inside. “Chris, I would have given my _life_ for any single one of you, and if you remember anything about me, you _know_ that. Let me help. You're _not_ a murderer, Corporal.”

Their eyes held, and she put every ounce of conviction she could in her stare. She could see the instant her sincerity broke through, and some of that wounded animal panic faded. It was him, he was still in there.

Oh god, it could have been so much worse. How long would they have kept him alive? How long would he have been experimented on? Years?

“No, no. They can't make me one,” he agreed, finger finally leaving the trigger, hand dropping. “Promise me, Shep. Promise me he'll stand trial.”

“I will do anything I can to make sure of it,” she agreed, shifting her grip on the pistol and returning it to her belt. Stepping closer, staring into his face, she firmed her voice up. “Justice _will_ be done.”

“When you say it, I almost believe it,” he said weakly, eyes averting to the floor. “Maybe the screaming will stop now.”

Rage rose, and despite herself, her hand twitched towards her weapon again. No. She stopped herself, fingers curling into a fist. She wasn't a murderer, either. But Cerberus...

It wasn't her fault. Akuze wasn't her fault.

It was theirs.

Stepping in, she slammed her fist into the face of the scientist, sending him to the floor in a single, measured hit. She even pulled it a little. The thud as he hit the ground was loud in the sudden silence. Shepard idly uncurled her fist and gave it a slight shake. Nah, barely felt it.

“Would hate it if he tried to run,” she said mildly. “They can't hurt you any more, Chris. I promise. Ash, secure the Cerberus bastard.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Turning half away, avoiding looking at Garrus, she lifted her fingers to her ear. “Joker, contact the fifth fleet and ask Admiral Hackett to send a ship for a pickup. I'll send him a full report, but we can't be here when they get here. As much as I trust him, we're mutineers right now.”

“You got it, Commander.”

“Chris, is there anything I can get you before we go? A ship will be here to pick you up and get you whatever help you need as quick as they can get here. I'll get you hydration and something to eat.”

“A pack of cigarettes, Commander?” he asked faintly, and she could see him withdrawing, eyes going vague and distant.

“We'll see what we can dig up. Can I convince you to move somewhere else for the time being?” He shook his head, and Shepard nodded. “Okay. Just hang tight, Chris.”

Garrus picked up the now-bound scientist, wisely moving him out of the room. Chris was severely fucked up, and she didn't blame him at all for not trusting him with the helpless scientist. Hell, she didn't trust him with the gun, but Shepard of all people knew that sometimes you needed to cling to them. She just hated that he was alone.

“Ma'am, do you think it's a good idea to leave the Corporal? Maybe we should get the doctor, spend some more time with him?” Ashley asked, uncertainly.

Shepard was raw, but not so raw that she was going to snap at someone for being worried about someone, even if it sounded like questioning her orders. “No. But it's the choice we have to make, no matter how much I want to. The Normandy can't help him, and I can't take him where he needs to go right now. It's six hours, tops. I'll bring him his cigarettes and offer to sedate him, but I've gotta respect it if he says no.”

“He's had enough of his freedom stripped from him,” Garrus said quietly, understanding.

They hadn't been talking much, but he was here, and it turned out they didn't really need the words any more. She didn't need to give orders. He was always exactly where she needed him.

Shepard had been trying to prove something to herself when she asked him to come- that he would still be at her back, even with what she'd done to him.

And he was.

Knowing that helped.

They settled the scientist somewhere out of the way, and she headed back on board, working on a message to Admiral Hackett as she gathered supplies for Toombs. Shepard wouldn't let anyone else handle it, even though Ash offered. The doctor was willing enough to part with a couple doses of eximo for him, the narcotic about as safe as they got, but hopefully enough to keep him calm until the Admiral sent someone.

She didn't want to risk that he would kill himself, but again- no way she'd take his gun from him.

Shepard didn't think she'd ever found out what his favorite ration was, but she grabbed something most everyone seemed to enjoy and heated it up properly before heading down with the care package. She was going to get alone, but Garrus was still waiting for her in the garage. He just fell in, didn't say anything.

So she didn't either.

The cigarettes had appeared on the mess table after she'd made the ship-wide request, and she wasn't going to investigate where they'd come from. Everyone needed their secrets. Cigarette smoking was pretty looked down upon, even the non-toxic gengineered tobacco ones, so she didn't blame the discretion.

With a warm meal, water, and a box of ration bars that were a step up from the food paste pouches, Toombs seemed more inclined to agree when she gently pushed the pills on him. He'd refused the sedation with surge of fear, so she dropped it immediately. At least he took the pills.

She couldn't spare much time, but they talked a little until the eximo took effect and he dazed out.

They headed back on board and she went for her locker immediately. They were headed back to the mass relay. For now, she'd have to trust Hackett had it in hand. Which she did, she trusted him.

“You did it.”

She glanced up and aside at Garrus, but he was putting his shotgun away and didn't meet her stare.

“Did what?”

“Saved his life,” he said quietly. “I get what that was for you. I don't know how you can do that, I would have shot the Cerberus bastard.”

“In my head I did,” she said, turning her attention back to the locker, stripping off her gloves. “In my head I still am. But my head doesn't do the killing, my hands do. And killing him wouldn't find the people who need to pay even more than that bastard did. He can't hurt anyone in custody.”

There was a pause, and she could see him watching as she lifted a hand and ran her fingers over her forehead. The skin was dry, a little red, but she'd sneaked some steroid cream and it'd been such a brief touch that it hadn't done too much damage. She was glad he had. It was stupid, but it'd helped.

“You were more careful today.”

“I kept my promise,” she said quietly, reaching to the side to unfasten the chest of her armor. “I spent a few hours talking to Amanda. The way I've been acting lately... that isn't the person I want to be. Just because it's harder right now doesn't mean I should self-destruct. You were right. I have been trying to hurt myself.”

“I'm glad you kept your promise,” he said, voice neutral.

“I'm sorry that I used you to hurt myself, but more than that- I'm sorry I hurt you, broke your trust. And I'm sorry for the way I used your friend. Once this is over, I'll talk to her in person and apologize. I don't do distance apologies.”

“I wouldn't push you that far,” Garrus said, abruptly awkward. “I don't know how she feels about it- I don't really want to know. I don't have the right to make any demands-”

“If I decide I feel I need to, I will. And it has nothing to do with you. If there's a possibility I'll hurt her, it's the right thing to do, so I'll do it. But you're right, it's between her and I, so I won't bring it up again,” Shepard replied, because it was the right thing to say. Sometimes you had to say the words until the brain followed.

“It sounds like you really thought about all this.”

“I'm good at taking responsibility for the dumb shit I do. Lots of practice. I thought I was better, Garrus, but...I guess everything right now is bringing out the worst in me.”

“If that was your worst, Shepard, so you're still a damn better person than most,” Garrus said quietly.

She gave a rough, quiet laugh. “The start of my worst, then. Thank you for knocking sense into my head before I went any deeper.”

He closed his locker, leaning a hand briefly against it before pushing up. She still couldn't read his face, even the slight bit she'd managed to work out by now, but his posture was more relaxed. Shepard knew she shouldn't hope, but...she couldn't help herself.

“You're welcome,” he said simply, and then turned to glance at her. “It's your turn.”

“My turn?” she asked quietly, shoving her armor into the locker.

“To pick the movie tonight.”

Relief flooded through her, and she managed a smile. It wasn't forgiveness, but he was still with her. That would have to be enough.

“No Blasto,” she promised. “I'll pull out an old Western from my collection. You'll like it, I think.”

“Western?” he asked.

Shepard smiled faintly. “Cowboy movie.”

“Sounds good,” he agreed, pushing off the locker and turning to walk away.

She watched him go, smile fading away. It wasn't quite right, and the part of her that hated things not being _fixed_ wanted to chase after him and demand things go back to the way they were. But that part of her brain was the one that had gotten her into this trouble in the first place.

She'd made a decision- she wouldn't push him away again.

He deserved his space.

Garrus hadn't really understood the nickname Shepard had given him, but when it'd first come up he hadn't said anything. And then the subsequent times, it felt like it would be weird to say something then, and it turned into one of those awkward situations where it was just too late. He knew Faith wouldn't have minded, but he tended to overthink.

Now he understood.

He'd enjoyed the movie far more than he'd expected to. Maybe human cinema was more interesting than Joker had made it sound. The grittiness, the gunfighting, the mysterious protagonist exacting revenge and bringing justice back to a lawless town run by a murderous villain...

Okay, yeah, he more than liked it.

It'd been a quiet, comfortable couple hours together, not talking much during the movie, just listening to each other and the vid. It helped. He wasn't sure he really wanted to talk, but he didn't want to avoid her, either. It was a strange situation to be in. She hadn't pushed him about her apology, and he wanted to make sure he wasn't just accepting it because he wanted her to be happy.

Garrus didn't think she'd appreciate that.

He just wanted her to relax tonight, though. After what they'd found earlier, he knew she needed it. Finding one of her squad alive when she'd thought them all dead...a good thing, obviously, but the fact that he'd been tortured by Cerberus, he knew she had to be conflicted.

When the movie ended, they sat in silence for a little while.

“I'm okay,” she said faintly, at long last. “I'm going to be okay. Being angry helps. There's someone to be angry at that isn't me now, and it helps.”

“It was never your fault,” he said quietly.

“You would be surprised how much I could convince myself that is very much not the case, Cowboy.”

Garrus was starting to understand just how _much_ Faith blamed herself for everything that went wrong, and it worried him. “Maybe not surprised any more.”

“But no. It never was my fault. Just like Kaidan- I made the right call," she repeated it, quieter. "I made the right call.”

“Who are you trying to convince, star? Not me,” he said.

She let out a sigh, a little too long, too breathy. She was starting to fade. “Me. Always me. It's hard some days to convince people to believe in you when you have trouble believing in yourself.”

It hurt, especially when he believed in her so much, but at the same time...it only made him respect her more. She still made the calls, inspired people, drove them on and made them believe in her, all the while as she doubted herself. It was incredible.

“Sounds like maybe you should have a little more faith in yourself.”

“That better have not been a fucking pun,” she threatened, and then cracked a long, slow yawn, bed rustling noisily.

“Never,” he promised.

She collapsed with another breathy sigh, making him wish he was there with her.

“Mmh. That's leadership, Garrus. Questioning yourself, all the time,” she murmured in his ear, soft and free of all of the complications between them in that place on the edge of sleep. “If you stop questioning yourself, you've failed. But you have a duty to the people that follow you to keep it to yourself, to make them believe, make them strong. It's hard. It's lonely. You help.”

It was easy to push away his hurt right now, because it was strange and complicated and he didn't want complicated right now. Not with her voice so soothing, and everything quiet and dark. “Then maybe I should be glad I'm not cut out for it.”

She laughed, fading off into a soft crackle. “Oh, you are. Or you will be, when it's time. You've got heaps of charisma, the ability to make the calls, and you're definitely too impatient.”

He wasn't sure what to think about that, even if it was complimentary. “Impatience is a leadership skill now? I thought it was patience I was supposed to have.”

“We've talked about your issues with C-Sec before. Your impatience was always justified, it meant you knew what needed to be done. You can't teach those kinds of instincts, they either are or they aren't. Learning how to work inside the rules once you know what needs doing isn't instinct, and neither is reigning yourself in. It's learned. I think if you'd originally gone to Spectre training when you wanted, you'd be an incredible leader by now.” Her voice turned wry. “Probably better than me.”

Flattered and embarrassed, but confused, he admitted, “I have trouble believing that, star.”

“See, you've already got that part down,” she joked softly. “You'll know when it happens, Garrus. When the moment comes, you'll rise. And once you know what it feels like to give that to people- that strength, the purpose, the bravery- there won't be any coming back from it.”

He hesitated, but he could feel the pieces falling into place. He understood. “That's why it feels like such a failure.”

She sighed slowly, tired and not upset with him. “Yeah. I want to inspire them, so much. But I have to accept that it means I'm inspiring some to their death. I tell myself people would die anyways, and I'm saving lives, but when you remember every name and face, it's harder than saying 'a hundred people died here, and a thousand there'. It's harder.”

“You saved the Corporal,” he reminded her.

“Akuze wasn't my fault. They planned it. It was a fucking experiment,” she said, and for a second he regretted it as her voice tightened. He wanted to help her stay calm. She needed to rest. “When this is all over, Garrus...I'm taking Cerberus down.”

He wanted to say he'd be at her side, but- “If anyone can, it's you, Trouble.”

“Hmmh,” she drowsily murmured, and he could hear sleep creeping up on her. “Never thought...I'd be a mutineer.”

“How you feeling about that?”

“Bad,” she said in a long breath. “Promise me?”

“Promise you what?” he asked, knowing she was probably already asleep.

“When they lock me up- when they pull me down and rip me apart, when they call me a traitor...delusional...”

Garrus wanted to tell her it wouldn't happen. He wanted to reassure her, tell her that no one would ever betray her like that, but he remembered her face when the Council and Udina had torn her down. He couldn't lie to her.

“Yeah?”

“Keep saving them, Garrus. Someone has to.”

Of course that was what she wanted. He didn't think it would go how she obviously feared it would, but it was an easy enough promise to make. He'd always wanted to put away the bad guys. Even if he had trouble with the way they wanted him to do it.

“For you,” he promised, and heard her sigh softly in relief. “Go to sleep, star. I'll be right here.”

“...no.”

In the darkness, he frowned. “Why not?”

“It's all there, in my brain. It's good, it'll be better, but right now it's all there, right on the surface,” she mumbled, and he heard her turn over, bed rustling. “It's all right there. Seeing him brought it all back.”

Oh.

He really should have thought of that, but he was just so glad they'd managed to rescue the guy.

“Going to be a bad night?”

“Yeah...you help, but- you need to...you sleep.”

He sighed faintly. “Worry less about me, Trouble. Just go to sleep. I won't sleep well knowing you're having a bad night, anyways.”

There was silence on the other end of the call, but not because it'd been hung up. When he started hearing her slow, even breaths, he let his own eyes close again. She was out.

If only he could sleep.

His mind was too busy, and now that she was asleep he couldn't avoid his thoughts any more. It felt wrong that he hadn't forgiven her yet, because he completely understood how it had happened and why. But understanding didn't fix it. The hurt didn't make him want to pull any further away, though.

Maybe it was because everything about this hurt in some way or another.

She woke up a lot that night, but at least she let him stick with her through it. At some point he'd almost convinced himself to get up and go to her room because it made him sick to listen to the fear in her voice- but he was more dangerous to her than the nightmares. So he soothed her down from them as best he could, and dozed between them.

Somehow, over the course of the night, he started feeling a little less raw.

It was a start.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: child abuse, misogyny  
> if you skip the last section (delineated by the line) you'll avoid encountering it

Tensions were so high Garrus could feel it in the air.

Although there weren't a single pair of eyes fixed on him, he could feel them all waiting for him to speak. He was fairly sure he knew what to do, but he couldn't think of the words. As they waited, Joker's eyes flicked towards him, his head tilting expectantly. A demand. But he couldn't for the life of him think of what to say.

Shit.

“What's the one where I want to match the bet but not raise it?”

Pressley sighed in exasperation. “For the last time, Garrus, it's 'call'.”

“Okay, I call,” he agreed, picking up the appropriate colored chips and tossing them into the middle of the table.

“Call,” Adams agreed, tossing his own chips down.

They all expectantly turned their attention to Ash. Liara was curiously peeking at her cards- she wasn't playing, just watching. Finally Ash sighed, and reached for her chips. “I guess I'll see your bet, and raise you ten.” She tossed the chips in again.

“Aaaand, I'm out,” Joker said, tossing his cards down with a sigh.

Another card was turned out on the table, leaving a pair of threes, a king, and a seven. By now he knew he wasn't holding anything. He also had watched Pressley bluff the last three rounds, so he was starting to understand what this was all about. A very human game, and he wasn't a great liar, but...

They also couldn't read his face or his voice like another turian could.

Ash and Pressley were betting aggressively, kicking out Adams yet again. He couldn't tell if they were both bluffing, but he knew by now that Ash probably was- there was a reason she was almost out of the game. When it came his turn, he either had to put in a hundred twenty, or...what was it?

Fold, right.

“Remind me again, if you have three of one and two of the other, that's...”

“Fuck,” Ashley muttered, tossing her cards down on the table.

“A full house,” Pressley said, staring at him intently.

“Thanks. I'll call,” he said, because he had yet to raise the bet, and it wasn't time to break with what was expected of him.

“Just raise the bet,” Joker said exasperatedly.

“But what if he has better cards than me?” he asked Joker, holding his ace and five close to his chest.

“It doesn't really get much better than a full house, Garrus!”

“I thought four of a kind was better. He could have four threes, Joker. I could run the probability for you...”

“I fold,” Pressley grumbled, throwing his cards down on the table.

“I guess that means I win,” Garrus said, leaning forward and grabbing the chips.

Joker snatched his cards out of his other hand. He didn't bother to hide his grin at the strangled, wordless accusation, the cards thrown down on the table. Everyone else craned to look at them, and he chuckled.

“You bastard!”

“I could have told you that was gonna happen,” a voice said from behind them, slow and amused.

He leaned back in his chair and glanced over his shoulder at Shepard, who was leaning against the counter, unwrapping a ration bar. She was dressed in her usual workout gear, a tight top and high-cut shorts. At one point it hadn't even really registered as anything of interest. Just clothes.

Now...?

A newfound appreciation for all that bare skin and the curves of her body had changed the context completely. Damn, he wanted to grab her by those hips and...

The idle once-over he gave her ended at her eyes, one of her eyebrows raised in amusement. “The 'gee I don't know what I'm doing' thing won't work much longer, Cowboy.”

“I didn't actually remember what it was called,” he said, turning back around before he was caught staring. “But that doesn't mean I had one. I just asked a question.”

“You're such an ass,” Joker accused, glancing up and over as Shepard approached and leaned against the back of his chair. He shuffled the cards without looking, practiced. “Bottles coming out tonight?”

“After we get the bastard,” she contradicted with a small smile. “I need clear heads tomorrow when we approach Ilos. No telling what's waiting for us there.”

“That is likely wise,” Liara said pensively.

“You're no fun. This is why we got divorced,” Joker said, dealing out the cards.

With a crackle, Shepard pulled the wrapper down on her bar. “We got divorced because you confused the bachelor party for the reception and a stripper popped out of the wedding cake.”

“For the last time, that was my Aunt Ethel, and she was just trying to give us a wedding present!”

“She did look good for her age,” Shepard mused.

“You two are so weird,” Ash said, laughing.

“All right, I gotta go see the doc. Garrus, go easy on them, huh?”

He scooped up his cards, stifling a smile at the discreet nudge of her hand against his waist in passing. “No promises.”

She wandered around the table and headed for medbay, and he watched her go over the top of his cards. At least he did until he noticed the amused look Liara and Ash were giving him from across the table. Clearing his throat, he glanced back down at his cards.

“You two are not even remotely subtle, you know that?” Joker asked, exasperated.

“No idea what you're talking about,” he said, setting his cards face-down and beginning to neatly arrange his chips.

“Whatever you say, Cowboy. Are we playing, or what?”

Adams tossed his bet into the center of the table with a clink. “Kid, normally I hate to agree with Joker, but yeah. It's not subtle.”

“Not you, too,” he groaned, waiting for Ash to throw down her bet. “What, have you been talking to Wrex? Enough with the 'kid' talk.”

“Wait, I thought you were older,” Ash said, tossing her chips in.

He did the same, picking up his cards again now that his chips were tidily arranged in equal-sized piles. Much better. “It's not my fault you humans can't tell a turian's age.”

“How old _are_ you?” Ash insisted, leaning over the table.

“Just trying to play the game. Right, Pressley?” he asked, hoping for a rescue.

“I'm not getting in the middle of this, kid,” Pressley said, smiling at his exasperated sigh.

“Hold on,” Joker said, bringing up his omni-tool.

“Come on, this isn't funny,” Garrus insisted, feeling more and more ganged up by the second. “Stop it, you know she's busy.”

The call picked up, and he saw Joker turn on the external audio. Garrus narrowed his eyes at him, but only got an unrepentant grin.

“Joker, is it important? Kind of in the middle of something.”

“Stop it,” he threatened again.

“How old is Garrus?” Joker asked, still completely unapologetic.

Shepard sighed. “Seriously? Uh. Twenty four. Why?”

“Nothing, that was all. Sorry for bugging you.” He hung up the call.

A finger was jabbed at him across the table, and he turned to face it. Ash looked way too pleased with herself, grinning from ear to ear as she leaned over the table, other hand splayed on its surface. Resgined, Garrus shook his head.

“Just say it.”

“I'm _older_ than you!”

“I'm almost twenty five,” he said defensively. “Can we just play?”

Joker shook his head slowly, disappointment in his voice. “I can't believe Shepard's a cradle robber.”

Seriously? Trust humans to find the worst possible way to phrase something. Garrus shook his head. “Really not a fan of that idiom. Besides, maturity-wise, let's be honest, our species aren't on the same level.”

“I'm going to raise,” Adams said, to his intense gratitude. The chips clinked into the center of the table.

Ash surveyed her waning pile of chips, finally sighing and meeting the raise, but no higher. “Call that.”

“I was under the impression that turians and humans had a similar physical maturity rate,” Liara said uncertainly.

“I didn't say _physical_ maturity,” Garrus said, and laughed at the sidelong look that Joker gave him. “Call.”

Both Pressley and Adams chuckled, but the other two humans didn't seem to find it as funny. Ash gave him the finger across the table, and he shifted his cards to one hand and returned it. She grinned.

“You know, Garrus, eventually you've gotta raise the stakes, or you're going to get predictable,” Joker said, calling the bet himself.

Rather than point out the hypocrisy, Garrus just smiled to himself. He glanced from his pile of chips to the others. “It's called tactics, Joker. It seems to be working out pretty well for me so far.”

Thankfully the subject was dropped. Although he didn't see much point denying it himself, he was a little worried Shepard might be annoyed he hadn't bothered fighting the accusations more. But then again, she'd said she didn't care who knew, and hell- she'd held his hand in front of Tali and Ash before.

He could handle a little teasing.

Shepard hadn't escaped from the doc unnoticed.

Another round of working out had been in the cards, it was helping keep her nerves down, but her talk with doctor Chakwas had ruined all her motivation. It was the thing she'd been trying to avoid all this time. Why had she agreed to the fucking sleep study? She should have known better!

All right, yes, she'd thought maybe she did have some sort of sleep disorder- the science talk had fooled her.

When the door to her room closed, her omni-tool beeped seconds later, and she grumbled. “Don't check in on me,” she ordered, stripping her shirt over her head.

“What's Godzilla?” Garrus asked.

That stalled her, and her burgeoning spite. “What?”

“I don't know, Joker said it when you went stomping past,” he said.

“Godzilla is a giant lizard that crushes cities under his feet, and Joker is very mean,” she sighed, wriggling out of her shorts and throwing them at the wall. “I'm fine. I'm mad. I did the responsible thing and it came back to bite me in the ass. Aren't you playing cards?”

“I got cocky and Pressley destroyed me,” he admitted, and chuckled when she laughed. “I deserved it. He's good.”

“It was your first time, you can't tell me you thought you were gonna win.”

“Maybe a little,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “What's biting your ass, Trouble?”

“Well, it seems all my hard work in picking doctors is for nothing,” Shepard sighed, reaching up to rub the back of her neck slowly. “Doctor Chakwas thinks I'm suffering from PTSD.”

There was a long pause from the other side. She crossed to her desk, letting her hair down and grabbing her brush. Garrus sighed in her ear.

“Well, yeah,” he finally said. “Not to be too pointed, Trouble, but it's pretty obvious.”

“That's not the point, Garrus! The point is not the it existing thing, it's that I can't let myself be diagnosed or it goes on my record!”

“Here we go,” he sighed.

“Excuse me!” she snapped, though there wasn't much venom behind it. “You watch your mouth, mister.”

“Nah. So you're so afraid of being put on leave that you won't even consider getting help. Star, I understand charging full speed ahead and not wanting people or anything else get in your way, but we both know you're riding on the edge and you need some down time.”

“I'm sure I'll get some forced downtime before the court martial, babe,” she retorted, plaiting her hair deftly and then wrapping it around itself. The elastic snapped back into place.

“As much as I appreciate that you feel safe enough with me to be negative, do you think we could at least _look_ at the possibility that saving the galaxy might make them go 'hey, maybe Shepard was right'?”

“Sometimes I feel like I use up all my positivity on other people.”

“Then take mine. Because there's nobody in this damn galaxy that I trust more than you. And I _know_ they're going to come around this time. Maybe not the Council, maybe not Udina, but when everyone else is on your side, they'll have no choice.”

She turned towards the bathroom, pausing as the door slid open to smile to herself. “Hackett did say people are taking my interview really well. I guess I kind of made Al-Jilani look like an idiot.” She shouldn't be so pleased with that, it was petty.

“Damn right you did. It meant a lot to me that you stood up for us like that, I know I didn't say it at the time. We'll make sure they all know who saved their asses at the end of this, huh?”

“It's hard,” she admitted, clutching the doorframe as she leaned against it. “I'm Alliance down to the bones, it sits so wrong, but I can't stop. I just don't know if I have it in me to not turn myself in at the end- any other way leaves my people in danger of being punished as well.”

“So we stay rogue,” he said, making her smile.

“Cowboy trying to go desperado? No way, Vakarian. Neither of us could do it for the long run, could we?”

“I'd give it a shot if it was with you,” he said quietly.

She sighed, pressing her forehead to the corner of the doorframe. “Don't ask that of me. We both know-”

“I don't want to know it right now, and I don't think you want to either. We know it later, yeah? We're walking into who knows what, and this might be it, so- not today, Trouble.”

Well, why not? It wasn't like they weren't already standing in the shallows, might as well dive in for whatever they had left. “Ignorance is bliss, huh?”

“Hmmh,” he said in her ear, warm and low. “I like that one. Yeah. You okay?”

“Yeah, about to get in the shower, I'm-” She paused as her omni-tool demanded her attention, still leaning against the door frame. He gave another 'hmm' in her ear, pleasantly thrumming, but missing the little buzz she liked when he was close by. “It's- shit. My mom's calling.”

“And...there goes the mood. Call me back?”

“Before or after my shower?” she asked playfully, and then hung up on him before he could answer, picking up the other call. She'd pay for it later, but it was funny. “Captain.”

Mom's voice crackled over comms, brisk and slightly annoyed. “Well, Commander, I'm not entirely sure where to start. I'm glad you answered. You're all right? Physically.”

“Pretty much, yeah,” she said. “I slept a little funny, though.”

“Hmmh. Speaking of funny...I suppose you thought that interview was funny,” Mom said, voice neutral.

“I really did,” Faith admitted with a laugh, relieved that she didn't seem to know about the mutiny. She shifted around to lean her back against the door frame, letting it press between her shoulderblades. She wiggled a little, feeling some slight tension. A massage would have been nice. “Her questions were so rude! And that man...”

“Should be _ignored_ , pumpkin! You know that as much as I. Don't get in the mud with the pigs, Faith, your position is far too important.” the Captain said. “They're harmless. I know you're biased against your father and his family, but even you have to admit that all they've ever done was talk.”

Faith forced a smile, in the hopes of keeping her voice from getting tense. “Yeah. I guess it just grates, mom. But I meant what I said. You're a fuckin' badass.”

“Language,” Mom sighed, but fondly.

Faith laughed. “I'm a Spectre! I'm pretty sure it says somewhere in there that I get to swear, even if my mom says no. You don't even get to give me a bedtime now.”

“I'm pretty sure you never followed a bedtime, Faith. I wasn't sure to think of this whole enterprise, but you seem to be handling it admirably, pumpkin. I know I was a bit harsh at the beginning. I just worry. I of all people know how hard you push yourself, and you know the reputation of the first human Spectre is so, so important. I'm proud, but that pressure is something no parent would want for their child. You know I'm trying to be less critical, but...”

Faith's smile dropped entirely, hand pressing to her forehead. She kept her voice light, though, well practiced at the facade. “I know, mom. I do. I'm doing my best, too.” That she could claim honestly, taking confidence. “My best isn't always everyone's favorite thing, but it gets things done. I know, I know. I'm too ambitious for my own good.”

“Well, at least you know it,” the Captain said, roughly amused.

“After hearing it all my life, mom, it's sunk in at least a little,” Faith teased.

“I've always felt a bit like the chicken raising an eagle. I never knew _what_ to do with you,” Mom chuckled. “Except step back and let you do what you were going to do anyways. Maybe Spectre is what you were meant to be. Now the rest of the galaxy can learn what I had to when my five year old saw the Olympics and told me 'that's me, mom. That's gonna be me'.”

Faith smiled sadly, dropping her head. “Yeah, well, that one didn't work out.”

“But that was your choice, pumpkin. No one else's. Trust your instincts out there, do your best, and remember who and what you're fighting for. And _stop_ trying to antagonize your father, please.”

“Yes, Captain,” Faith sighed, rolling her eyes.

“All right, Commander. Look after your crew. They're counting on you. Shepard out. I love you.”

“Love you, mom.”

The call ended, and Faith stared at her omni-tool as the hologram faded. She'd never been able to properly explain to mom why the word 'father' set her teeth on edge, but the anger had faded over the years into something that could be tolerated. It was too late now to bring it up. Too late to tell her mom the truth about that guy.

It didn't much matter.

He'd held to the letter of their agreement, if not the spirit.

* * *

Faith stared in the mirror, wiping her hands down her wet face.

She looked okay, and she hadn't cried much more, at least. It'd been embarrassing to cry in the courtroom, but at least she'd gotten the words out, finally been heard. Nobody stopped her. There was nothing she hated more than feeling helpless, people assuming because of her age she didn't know what the fuck she wanted.

“I'm seventeen, not a kid,” she scoffed at her reflection.

Turning away, she flicked her hand under the dryer, blasting hot air over her hands. Her face she dried with her upper arm, smearing it across her face. It momentarily blinded her.

The door thudded open, swinging closed as her vision cleared. She was staring at a pair of shiny black dress shoes. Her gaze dragged up reluctantly, fear surging as she took a reflexive step back. It was _him_.

“This is the girls' bathroom,” she spat at him, avoiding his eyes. She prickled with uneasiness, glancing past him at the door. He was in the way. Some primal instinct started crawling up her nerves like insects, making for her brain.

He always made her uneasy, but not like this.

“Faith, I'm incredibly disappointed in the way you acted today,” he said, as if he hadn't even heard her.

“This is the GIRLS' bathroom!” she repeated, trying to sound firm and not panicked. He was blocking the door. “Let me out, I have nothing to say to you.”

“Yes, that's the problem, isn't it?” he asked, voice even and too understanding. “The complete lack of respect. After everything we've done for you, you try to humiliate me?”

Her insides were cringing, breath fluttering in her throat, but she tried to keep her face blank. Blank. Don't let him win, don't let him see you scared.

“You haven't done _anything_ for me,” she said in a croak.

His voice went cold, not even pretending to be nice now. “Yes, of course. Because the fancy coach pays for himself. The trips, the constant back and forth because you _refuse_ to stay on Earth. You spoiled, stupid little brat.” The insult was emotionless. “Don't you realize these things cost money? Or do you just not care about anyone but yourself? Your mother raised a self-centered snot.”

Her hands were shaking, so she clenched them, praying anyone would come in. It didn't matter who, but in the back of her mind she was pleading for her mom to come find her. The part of her mind that still thought it was a little girl.

“You can't buy me! I'm not for sale! Leave me alone!” she said, backing up until she hit the wall. It was further away from the door, but further away from him. Away, away.

She had to get away.

“You could have had a future! I put so _much_ into it despite how many times you've failed and disappointed us, and you're throwing it away! Why couldn't you just obey for _once_ in your life!”

Please let someone hear him shouting, please.

Please, please, please.

Her hands reached up and clutched her ears, glancing away from him, her insides shaking. She wasn't brave, she wasn't. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Please, mom.

_Mama, where are you?_

“And now look at what you've done. Ruined our investment in your future. Running off to what, grub in the dirt and shoot guns?”

“It's what I want,” she croaked, back sliding down the wall, hands still clutched over her ears.

All the wrongness she'd ever felt about him but couldn't put into words, it was out now. She'd always known it was there, but he'd hidden it so well. Hidden it so well that no one would ever believe her.

His voice wasn't so cold now, but it was meaner- he even sounded pleased. “Yes, well, now it'll be a miracle if you manage to graduate without ending up pregnant. I tried to save you from it, but it seems like I was too late. Congratulations, you have what you wanted. You're going to be a whore, just like your mother.”

The words shot through her panic and pain, pushed the little girl aside. No.

It blazed through her, a surge of rage that forced her spine straight, her hands stiff at her sides and balled into fists as she shot back up and stared him down.

He'd gotten closer, but as she lifted her chin and took a step closer, he took one back. “My mother is a better person than you will _ever_ be. You're just jealous.” She spat the last word. “Pathetic.”

“Would you _stop_ talking back for _once_?!”

She should have been afraid.

But it was a challenge.

Faith didn't back down from a challenge.

“No,” she said, enunciating clearly, lifting her chin. “Marcus, I hate to repeat myself, but go fuck yourself.”

Confidence returned, sure of her own self-righteousness, she was completely taken off-guard when he surged forward. There was a flurry of confusion, movement her brain blurring as she was thrown backwards, her head slamming into the wall. She broke, shattering in a thousand shades of confusion and shock.

There was a hand around her throat.

It was clutched tight, tight enough to feel the fingers pressing into her skin, and she instinctively tried to draw a breath and wheezed. The fingers twitched tighter, and her air started to close off. She couldn't breathe! Her hands reached up, pulling at his wrist, clawing as his hand pushed her throbbing skull into the tile wall.

She couldn't fucking breathe!

His voice was furious, rising and falling as he shouted, “you stupid, selfish little BITCH-”

Their eyes met.

Clawing at his hand, their eyes met, and she saw his go wide in shock. He took in a shuddering breath, and his fingers released her neck instantly, hand jerking back as if he'd touched a fire. She wheezed for breath even though it'd barely been seconds, lungs panicking.

“You-”

“Go away,” she rasped, straightening up as she held a hand to her throat. An ice washed over her, a shield that swept over her and pushed everything away. Protecting her. She slowly dropped her hand, neck and head aching. “Go away, Marcus, and if you ever speak to me again, I'll tell everybody what you just did. I'll tell the whole fucking galaxy. Otherwise nobody needs to know.”

Their eyes held as he backed away. She didn't blink. When he spun and pushed through the door, she let out her breath, and then took one in.

Faith turned for the mirror and carefully buttoned up her coat and wrapped her scarf to hide the red handprint on her neck.

She'd keep her promise...as long as he kept his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> less unhappy warning: next chapter is nsfw


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is extremely NSFW, and is sexually explicit. If you skip it, you won't miss any plot at all, it's been cut so that you don't. <3

Shepard took an extra thirty seconds in the shower, because she was a rebel now.

Trying not to feel terribly guilty about it, she slung herself out and grabbed the towel, wrapping it tightly. Her mind was at ease now, it wasn't hard to banish gloomy thoughts. She'd spoken to mom, so no matter what happened tomorrow she could be focused. They always made sure the last thing they said was 'I love you'.

Just in case.

The fear of death was always there, but if she went down tomorrow, it would be with Saren. It would be while saving everyone else- if that's what it took, that was what it would take. After losing Kaidan...

She'd do what had to be done.

Her omni-tool beeped as she was heading for her closet, and she glanced down with amusement. Bringing up the menu, she debated rejecting the call just to be an ass, but she knew by now that he'd just call back. It was a little rude, but she supposed so was rejecting a call.

“Did you forget the part where I was going to call _you_ back, Cowboy?”

“I thought impatience was a leadership quality.” His voice was a little muffled.

“Yeah, and I'm the one in charge,” she quipped, surveying her sad little stash of clothes. Ugh. She needed to go shopping. Well, not like it mattered now. But still, one of her favorite shirts had a hole in the armpit. “Where the fuck are you?”

“Under the Mako. Settling my nerves with a last-minute maintenance check,” he admitted.

“Greasemonkey,” she accused, grabbing a pair of underwear and yanking them on.

“You're not wrong.”

Blinking in surprise, Shepard laughed, releasing her panties with a snap against her hip. “Of all things, that's the one that actually translates. Funny. How's my baby?”

“I'll be fine,” he said, and continued before she could protest or get flustered, “and how's your mom?”

Thankful that this was audio only, cheeks heating, she reached in and blindly yanked out a t-shirt. She'd throw on shorts if she had any desire to leave the room. Crew could deal with her being out of uniform in the current circumstances. “Coming around...until she finds out about the mutiny. It seems they're keeping it hush so far. Probably covering their ass until there's a reason to go after us.”

“Well, that's something. Sorry, star. I know it's gotta be rough knowing that's going to happen. Maybe they'll just pretend it never happened once we save their asses.”

“And maybe Udina will find religion and repent for all his sins and throw me an apology party with booze and strippers,” she replied dryly, voice briefly muffled as she pulled the shirt over her head.

“Am I invited?”

“Sure, you can be the stripper.”

He laughed in her ear, a little awkward. “I'm more of a private show sort of guy, Trouble.”

“Hey, that works, too,” she teased, laughing when he cleared his throat. It was funny how easy it was to fluster him, but she knew she could be just as bad when it came to the emotional shit. Reaching up to let down her hair, she scrubbed her fingers through the braid, unwinding it. “You at my back tomorrow?”

“If you chose someone else I'd finally throw that fit in front of the crew,” he admitted.

“Worth the price of admission,” she quipped, wandering over to sit down at her desk, tucking her legs up under her shirt. “No, no, I need to be at my best tomorrow, and you're part of my best.”

He cleared his throat again. When he spoke, his voice was lower, a warm little rumble. “That's nice to hear.”

She smiled to herself, head tilting to the side as she toyed with the hair elastic. “I think we need biotics this time. After getting his straight in the face...”

“Yeah, you're probably right. You okay with that, though? I know you've been worried about Liara since she got hurt.”

“It's not fair to baby her. She's proven herself over and over,” Shepard said with a sigh, stretching her arms over her head, chair tilting back. “Mmh. I know I said no bottles, but what say you and me have a drink when you're done? I promise, no morose vodka-soaking.”

“I could go for that. Any of that whiskey left?”

“Probably a bottle. I'd go out and check but that requires pants and I'm not feeling it right now. The stash is in the crate marked Sunrise-L22, next to the stack of ammo crates. I was going to work out more, but...”

“Just relax, I'll find it. Sneak past the quartermaster. Put on something to watch, or play a game- something. Big day tomorrow.”

“Are you babying _me_ , Vakarian?”

“And what, Shepard, makes you think that you haven't given me reason after reason why I _need_ to?” There was a noisy clank, and then a clatter of metal.

She grumbled at that, because he was right and also the only one who knew all the shit she was dealing with in her brain right now. Still, it made her feel vulnerable, and also a little weak. “Sometimes I worry being so honest with you makes you respect me less,” she said, rather than try to hide it. She'd screwed up enough.

His voice was strained for a second, but she assumed it was just from effort. “The...opposite, actually. I know you'd help me- you have. Being able to give some of that back feels pretty damn good.”

“Sentimentality? From a turian? Oh no, humanity has corrupted you,” she joked, tucking her feet up on the edge of the desk, knees stretching out her shirt.

“Humanity? Nah, it's all you, Trouble.”

She smiled to herself, toes curling against the edge of the desk as she listened to him clanking around. There was some slight scuffing, and a distinctive clattering that she could only assume was him tossing tools in the case. Garrus gave a heavy exhale, ending in a small grunt in her ear that she really wished she could hear up close.

“All done?”

“There's always more I can tweak. If you let me, I'd spend hours running calculations and adjusting the shock system,” he admitted with a chuckle. “Always a little more optimization to do.”

Shepard grinned. “Will it drive real fast and not explode? That's all I care about.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said flatly, but she could hear the humor he was hiding. Maybe that was the trick to reading turians. Just paying attention to the voice. It was plenty expressive, and easy to listen to. Like a perfectly hot bath.

“You should see me drive a real ground car. Earth still has a decent amount of roadways. I have an automation override permit on my license,” she said proudly, still grinning to herself.

He scoffed. “Who the hell gave you that?”

“Rude. We used to rent a track and go drag racing during our brief time off at the Academy.”

“You know, that explains a lot about your driving. Gonna grab that bottle, Trouble, then hit the showers.”

Hmmh. You know, it wasn't fair that he'd seen her mostly naked and she'd never gotten a chance. Really, when you thought about it, it was something that needed fixing.

Comfortable, sunk deep into her chair and in the easy, uncomplicated conversation, she lazily murmured in his ear before she could stop herself, “I've got a shower.”

“I ah- Faith,” he said, and she couldn't tell if it was a warning.

“I don't _have_ to watch, unless you want me to...”

The deep, growling 'hmm' in her ear brought all sorts of squirmy, tingling sensations, lower abdomen twisting itself in very pleased knots. Unfortunately, the very sexy noise cut off abruptly, with one of those nervous throat-clearings she found so amusing. She hadn't caused it this time, though.

“Tali! No, just getting something for-”

Shepard didn't bother to hide her wicked laugh, knowing no one else but her could hear him. There was a giddy, impish mood bubbling up inside of her, something she kept trying to hold back when it came to him. But damn it, he'd been right. Not tonight. She listened to him talk to Tali for a couple seconds, only hearing half the conversation, waiting for him to pause before she spoke again. When he did, and she very faintly heard the murmur of Tali's voice, she spoke up again.

Letting her voice go breathy, teasing, she whispered in his ear, “What's the matter, Cowboy? Feeling shy? It's only fair that since I can't touch you, I should at least get to watch you touch yourself.”

Laughing gleefully at his abrupt sputtering, she clapped both hands over her mouth, cheeks flushing. It was impossible not to enjoy, one foot pushing off the desk to spin her in a circle as he hastily tried to escape from the conversation with Tali. By the time he finished, she was fighting to stifle it, but his irritated growl brought it back, worse than ever.

“ _Shepard_.”

“Vakarian,” she retorted, the single word shivering with mirth.

“Don't tease me like that.”

Pausing for a moment, she exhaled, playful malice fading away. Her smile softened at the corners, and she took a second to think- actually think about it. Maybe it was reckless, but- “I wasn't. I wasn't _just_ teasing.”

“You- ah- Faith, you...weren't?” he asked, obviously nervous.

“Is that bad?” she asked, suddenly worried. “I know we're- I know I screwed up...”

“No, no,” he murmured quietly in her ear. “Listen, I'm- this isn't a good way to talk about this. I just...star, there's no coming back from that. You said it before.”

Smiling to herself, she dropped her elbows onto the desk. Legs unfolding from under her shirt, she let them drop to the floor, forehead falling into her hands. “I'm pretty sure there's already no coming back from you, Garrus. Can you really tell me you don't feel the same way?”

He heaved a long, quiet sigh. Seconds passed by, but she didn't say anything, breathing slowly with her fingers digging into her temples.

“I still want to be your friend when this is over.”

Shepard laughed, sadly. “You'll always be my friend. But...you and I both know it's gonna take time. I don't know how much time, but it's gonna take time, and distance. And maybe the distance is gonna last for the rest of our lives, I don't know...but I'll always be your friend.”

“I hate that,” he admitted quietly, and then gave a long, slow sigh that sounded so exhausted it broke her heart.

Guilt rose in a stomach-knotting wave. “I wish I wasn't so fucked up. I'm so sorry. So, so-”

Garrus cut her off quickly. “No, no. Don't do that. I'm...”

He trailed off, and she leaned into the silence. It went on for so long that she started getting nervous. “You're?”

“I was waiting for the elevator to close, and...you make me so damn nervous,” he confessed, laughter over the awkward words. “I'm trying to say that I can wish things were different, without blaming it on you.”

It was hard to fight the urge to blame herself, but she had to try. “Okay, that's fair. And I hate asking you to cover up just to spend time with me, it's stupid,” she said, finally lifting her head.

“Mmh, but at least I get to touch you. I can live with it,” he said, sounding a little more relaxed.

“If you come use my shower, I promise I'll behave. I'll even put on pants.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said quickly, making her laugh. “Let's not go crazy here.”

Her laughter trailed off into a sigh. “Hmmh. It's your choice. I'm not going to push you on this, but I'm here, the door's unlocked, and at least the shower's private.”

“And you're not wearing pants,” he said, a lazy drawl in her ear.

“And I'm not wearing any pants...and we did promise that we'd just take today as it came, didn't we?”

He laughed, chagrined. “Right, right. I guess I screwed that up a little.”

“Well, I did go from zero to 'hey, can I watch you masturbate?', so...”

The call ended.

Shepard heard the door open, and she spun herself around in the chair, grinning to herself as she turned her back to Garrus. Idly she stretched her legs out, propping them up on the desk and crossing her ankles. She could _feel_ him loom up behind her. The self-satisfied smirk on her lips didn't go anywhere.

A new bottle of whiskey and a pair of glasses were set down next to her left thigh, silently with a thump. Leaning forward with a creak, she grabbed the bottle and twisted it open. In complete silence, fighting back a laugh the whole time, she started pouring the amber liquor, taking her time about it.

“You need to _stop_ ,” he finally said, roughly.

“Tell you mean it,” she said simply, pouring the second glass.

He didn't say a word, much to her growing pleasure.

Setting the bottle back down, she smiled lazily and picked up one of the glasses, offering it blindly behind her.

“You need to relax,” she said.

“It's a hard to do with you saying things like that.” He took the glass from her hand.

“I know I'm usually relaxed...afterwards,” she finally pivoted the chair with her hips so she could look up at him, and the coy smile immediately turned into a surprised laugh.

“What?” he asked, suspiciously.

Lifting a hand, she rubbed her finger up the bridge of her nose. “You've got grease on your nose again, Cowboy,” she said fondly.

“All the more reason I should go shower.” He took a sip of the glass, and leaned past her to set it down, far away from hers. It was then that she noticed what else he was carrying.

It was probably some sort of weird symptom of their whole thing that she was so pleased to see he was carrying the helmet with his change of clothes. At least she'd get some sort of one on one time, even if it wasn't...

The bathroom door slid open, and he paused and glanced back at her. “You coming?”

Reaching for her drink, she rose to her feet, tossing back a generous swig and then setting it down further away from his. His was the one with more in it, she needed to remember that. It was hard to think about, but it was more important than ever to be careful right now- she couldn't chance a reaction with Ilos tomorrow. But damn it, this might be their last chance.

The bathroom was small, but it was hers- a luxury on this ship. When she slipped in behind him, he was setting his things down on the narrow divot set into the wall she never used. Shepard didn't see the point in getting dressed in the bathroom unless she had to. The helmet didn't fit, though, and while he was glancing around the space, she took it from his hands deftly and dropped it in the narrow sink, balancing half in the basin.

“Umh...”

“Not long on counter space, Cowboy,” she murmured, and then blinked and glanced down, drawn by an odd motion. He was pulling on his gloves. “The point of a shower is usually to take clothes _off_ , not...”

“Come here, there's something I've been meaning to do,” he replied, reaching out toward her.

Intrigued, and comfortable enough considering that he had at least a foot on her, height-wise, she stepped into the circle of his arms. It just felt natural to press in against him as his arms tightened around her. So different than hugging a human, but-

She had to stifle a pretty immature squeak when both of his hands reached down and groped her ass in an enveloping, massaging grip. Mmh. Nice big hands. Her startled jolt immediately eased out into limp pleasure, nuzzling in just below where his cowl met his shoulder.

“Nice,” she murmured, and felt him chuckle, that rumbly, vibrating noise she'd been missing. It was so much better when she could _feel_ it.

“I agree,” he drawled, that roguishly cocky tone she liked so much back. “Trouble, I...haven't really done anything like this before. Being watched, I mean. I hope that doesn't bother you.”

“Mmh,” she murmured, nose nudging gently, eyes closing. “Slow is okay. You changing your mind is okay. Honestly if you just never stopped what you're doing you could probably convince me to do anything.”

“How did you spend the last ten hours? Oh, grabbing the Commander's ass.”

“Your service is greatly appreciated.” She cracked an eye open when her omni-tool beeped, grumbling faintly. When she lifted her hand, he released her to intercept it and push it down. She laughed, fending him off with a swat. “Stop, it's just a message.”

“Everybody messages the great Commander Shepard, it can wait,” he contradicted, but grabbed her butt again, squeezing and cupping it upwards in a lazy massage. Distracting, but not enough to stop her.

“This is my personal comm key, not my Alliance one,” she contradicted, and then gave a soft sigh of relief as she brought the message up, free hand sliding back down to his waist. “It's forwarded from main, it's Hackett. Chris is safe, they're going to get him help.”

“Okay, good. Now your mind is at ease, can we ignore comms, please?” he said, sounding just a little annoyed.

“You know I can't promise that,” she sighed, wrapping both her arms around him again. “But I will ignore my personal ones. Sorry, Commander's always on call.”

“I want you to relax.”

“And I want us both to relax,” she said, muffled against him as she pressed in, fingers idly pulling back to massage his waist, exploring lazily. She could feel the pleased noise against her cheek, even if she couldn't quite hear it. “So...what can we do about that?”

“I...” he stalled, and then admitted with a chuckle that sounded less strained, “I don't know where to start.”

“Well, we can start with you taking my shirt off,” she murmured softly, trying not to be amused. She kept up the lazy massage because it seemed to help.

That seemed to have been a good place to start, because his hands immediately released her and started sliding up her back, pulling her shirt with them. It felt good, making her stretch against him with a slow, comfortable sigh. The gloves must have been reinforced inside, because she didn't feel the talons at all. Kind of a shame.

“I fucking love your hands,” she admitted, pulling her head back as he dragged the shirt over it, tousling her hair. It was a shame to release him, but she had no choice. She finished the motion by nudging him back by the center of his chest as he dropped her shirt.

Taking a half-step back, Garrus asked curiously, “what?”

“Safer this way,” she replied, turning her back to him. The little 'hmm' from the back of his throat made her smile, peeking over her shoulder. “You gonna take off my underwear, babe, or do I need to do it myself?”

“No, ma'am, I think I can handle that,” he said, and she was pleased to hear he didn't sound nervous this time- just pleased.

Both of his hands slid down her hips as he stepped back in, catching under the waistband of her panties and dragging them downwards. His small, curious noise made her smile, but it faded when he stalled just above her knees and pulled back. Glancing over her shoulder, she gave him a dark look. Or, at least, gave the underside of his chin a dark look- it was an odd angle at the moment.

“What?”

“Being careful,” he reminded her quietly. “I don't want to get too close without the helmet.”

Fuck. He was right. Removing her panties from around her knees with just her feet took a second, but before long she was kicking them off to join her shirt.

She could feel his stare on her skin, and she gave a lazy little stretch when she finished, popping up on her toes, arching her back. It got her a pleased growl, and a hand on her ass again, rolling the cheek in a lazy squeeze. The roughness of the gloves against her skin felt nice there, but probably wasn't going to feel too good other places. Hmm.

Being exposed like this in front of him didn't make her feel in the least bit shy- in fact, she was enjoying it, eyes closing slowly as a finger dragged up the line of her spine to her neck. Knowing he was staring at her felt _good_. “Better?” she asked coyly.

“Almost. Spread your legs, Trouble,” he said quietly.

Hmm, not so shy now.

Obediently she spread her legs, reaching between her legs from the front to lazily slide her fingers between her labia, spreading them open. Damn, it was almost embarrassing how wet she was. “That what you wanted to see?”

When his hand started sliding off her ass, she laughed and released herself, reaching back and grabbing his wrist. “Hmm, no. Hold on a second, Cowboy.”

“Hmmh?” he asked, letting himself be pulled away without complaint.

“Delicate skin. The gloves are too rough,” she said, laughing at his disappointed grumble. “I said hold on!”

Mischievously, she shifted his hand to her chest, letting him idly grope her breast as she barely opened the mirror, flailing behind it. A tight squeeze, but eventually she found the box of condoms that she always kept just as a 'just in case'. Her birth control rendered her basically infertile, so that wasn't an issue, but you could never be to careful.

One of the tiny packets was eventually fumbled out, and she tore it open, dropping the packet in the sink to worry about later. A finger dragged across her hardened nipple, and he paused at her shudder and stifled moan. There was a faint chuckle from behind her, pleasant and dark.

“Are you sensitive everywhere, Trouble?'

“Pretty much,” she admitted, enjoying the thoughtful little 'hmm' that roused. Grabbing his hand again, she could feel him curiously watching from above as she rolled the condom onto his first finger next to his thumb, which she'd noticed he seemed to lead with. Made sense, if he was human that'd probably be his index finger.

Nice hands.

Since he still hadn't pulled back from her playing, once she managed to roll the condom on, pleased that the one size fits all was as advertised, she lifted his hand, thumb sliding over his palm. He froze as she tilted her head back and ran her tongue up the length of his finger. Once she reached the tip, she parted her lips and drew him in to her mouth. He just stiffened even more.

“Teeth,” he protested weakly, only to immediately relax with a groan as she sucked on his finger, tongue lazily caressing. “Or...not...”

She couldn't imagine he could feel much, considering the gloves, but he didn't seem to care. Again, his stare fixed on her felt like a caress, her back arching as he pressed his finger into her mouth, thumb cradling and pinning her chin. When he pulled out, she released his hand at last and let her own slide down her stomach.

He followed, rousing a shiver that she didn't hide, a heavy breath exhaled against the mirror. When she bent forward again, his hand sliding between her legs, she felt his hips pull back before she touched him. Faith couldn't hide the wicked little smile.

“Are you hard for me?” she asked teasingly.

“Yeah,” he admitted roughly.

“Don't you dare hide it. Show me,” she demanded, pleased and hazy as his fingers joined hers between her thighs.

A small growl escaped him, and she was getting ready to demand again when his hips thrust up against her ass, pushing her into the cold sink. Oh god, yeah, he was hard. And even through the fabric, thicker than she'd expected. Shit, that was nice.

Pinned between his hips and his hand, she let out a slow groan as he started grinding against her. His hand between her legs paused, and she reached up to guide him, his fingertip nudging hesitantly against her entrance. A gentle exploration, almost cautious.

“In,” she demanded impatient, fucking desperate for it by now. There was a hint of pressure, but not nearly enough. He was hesitating. “Damn it, you're not going to hurt me.”

“You're tight,” he protested quietly. She felt his finger finally start to sink inside her, and he let out a shuddering breath. “Oh...”

“Yes,” she sighed, hand sliding up as his finger twisted inside of her, slipping under his palm. She found her clit, swollen and slippery, beginning to tease herself as he explored.

“You feel so damn good.”

“Deeper,” she demanded, voice going breathy as he complied, finger twisting as he pressed in, the pressure easing slowly. The pleasure was rising, finally, after all the teasing and toying. This was what she'd wanted the whole fucking time. Him. However she could have him. “Mmh, like that.”

His hips stalled in their slow grind, and when she gave a small, throaty sound of inquiry, he sighed roughly in a growl. “I don't care any more. Ruin me forever. I want to hear you scream my name.”

Shuddering, she nodded silently.

Oh fuck yes.

Dropping any pretense at playing around, she braced her free hand next to the mirror. He grabbed her hip as she bent over even further, tits swaying. Even with everything in the way she could feel his thick shaft sink _between_ the cheeks of her ass. She'd probably pay for it later in chafing, but with his finger dragging inside her and his hips thrusting against her, she couldn't give a fuck.

She knew her own body intimately, knew just how to bring herself to climax, and there was no way in hell she could hold back now. Breaths came faster and faster, scaling up to a shocked moan as he got a little too rough and slammed her up against the sink, his palm flattening her hand against her pussy as he ground in harshly.

“Don't cum,” she denied him, briefly panicked at the idea. He couldn't. It was too dangerous.

“Hurry,” he replied, the single word vibrating through his body as he abruptly reached up, leaving her hip for her shoulder, pulling her back against his chest. He held her securely, just rocking up against her ass now as she fell against him, his finger working in and out of her in a rhythm. God, his staring at her in the mirror felt so good.

It exploded through her with a shocking intensity, his arm around her tightening as she arched her back and desperately called out his name. Hot, ecstatic, it spread through her in waves that left her senseless, knowing nothing but pleasure and the anchoring weight of him. Safe, secure, he held her as she came for him.

Normally she'd keep going, push herself a little further, but it was so fucking intense that after the first sharp peak evened out into little shudders she had to stop, clit throbbing in protest.

When she went limp, he instantly pulled his finger out of her and his hand away, letting out a sigh at her whimper of denial. “I need to-” he said, strained.

It penetrated her haze, and she nodded, accepting the little finger-stroke to her throat as he pulled away. She grabbed the edges of the sink before she collapsed. There had been some point where she'd wanted to watch him undress, take her time, but that was before. Now she was lucky she didn't collapse into a heap on the floor as she panted for breath, mind hazy.

Oh god, she felt so good.

As her knees gave out, she tried to do it gracefully, sinking down to the cold floor on her knees. Bracing a hand on the wall, she turned herself around and landed on her butt at last, exhaling heavily. Between the sink and the door, she let her eyes slit open just in time to watch his clothes hit the floor in a heap. Hmmh. Turian legs were nice and agile-looking- she liked how defined the muscles were, even despite the plates.

In fact, the carapace seemed to highlight his build, which she was definitely thinking about up until the point she saw his cock for the first time. It was different. Different than an accidental glimpse when stumbling across turian porn, and definitely different than human. It was his.

Her hazy, post-orgasm brain noted that it was probably a good thing it was tapered, because she couldn't imagine any other way she'd manage to get something like that inside her. God, he was big- impossibly thick at the base, shaft ridged in a way that promised pleasure in every goddamn direction. When she dragged her lower lip into her mouth with her tongue, he gave a thrumming, low noise of pleasure.

He was watching her stare at him.

“Are you gonna cum for me?” she asked, wondering why he wasn't touching himself.

“I'm too close,” he admitted, slightly strangled.

“Baby, I don't need a show,” she murmured, pulling one knee up to her chest, spreading her thighs. “I just need you to feel good.”

It was probably for the best that he stepped into the shower, put more distance between them. Damn it, it was so unfair that he'd fucking kill her, because the instant he reached down and hastily wrapped his hand around his cock, all she could think about was kneeling underneath him while he was doing it. Still too sensitive to touch herself, she just watched contentedly as he gripped himself tightly and jerked his shaft.

He sure wasn't lying- it took less than a dozen strokes before he let out a visceral growl that sent animalistic trembles down her spine, her breath catching in her throat. Cum spattered against the shower wall as he leaned against his free hand, the gorgeous muscles in his arms and muscles taut. She couldn't see as well as she'd like, but she could imagine it almost as if he was there between her thighs, hot and deep.

After the first, violent explosion, she saw him start to relax, but his hand didn't stop its stroking. Turning his head, he met her eyes, rousing a soft, slow smile from her. The stare held for a few seconds, and then he gave her one of those lazy little head to toe once-overs she liked so much, feeling the way he just savored every inch of her.

“Good?” she asked simply, their eyes meeting again.

“So good,” he agreed, and then cursed and turned away from her again. Surprised, but pleased, she watched as he came again, but with less violence than the first time. This time it was her name he moaned, and a delighted wave of pleasure coursed through her, warm and thrilling.

He finally stopped stroking himself, fingers gliding over the pointed tip of his cock, smearing the cum that had a slight, almost shimmery blue tinge to it in the light. Panting for breath, he murmured quietly, “this is what you do to me, star.”

Feeling her cheeks flood with heat, she smiled. “I can't say I'm sorry.”

“Hmmh.” There was a long pause, and she just enjoyed it, leaning her forehead against the bottom of the sink as she watched him. Garrus sighed, heavily, so much so that she was getting worried when he pushed off the wall and straightened up. “All right. You, out. I need to shower.”

“You make a guy cum once and he starts trying to order you around,” she said with a wrinkle of her nose, a little put out. “Who's in charge here? Me. I wanna watch.”

“This half of the room could now kill you, and this bathroom is too small. Out. I'll be to bed in just a few minutes. Pick a movie,” he replied, but sounded far too content to actually make it sound like an order. “This is safety, star, not me wanting to push you away. If I had my way you'd be in my arms right now, but it'll have to wait ten minutes. Please?”

Oh, so now he was suddenly going to be _reasonable_ and _smart_. How dare he. Heaving a sigh of her own, she started trying to get to her feet, knees deciding to cooperate this time. When she reached for her shirt, he grumbled.

“What?”

“Well, there's no reason for _you_ to get dressed.”

“You know, for once you make a decent point, Cowboy,” she said, stretching her arms over her head. Good to know he was still interested- his gaze definitely was wandering down when she peeked up at him. And then she giggled, unable to help the immature little noise.

He blinked, and glanced up at her. She lifted a hand to her nose and tapped it, smiling impishly. Grumbling, he wiped the grease off his nose with the back of his hand.

She was still laughing as she left the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of think I need to change the fic rating now >.


	31. Chapter 31

Faith had been right.

He was never going to be able to forget the sound of her moaning his name.

And right now, he couldn't bring himself to care. Not with her curled up against him, drowsily watching the vid as he idly stroked her cheek, his other hand resting against her bare stomach. Sure, it wasn't perfect, and now his mind was forever going to be lost in fantasies of what it would have been like without everything in the way when he'd been grinding up against her, but...it was what they had.

Garrus just wished he could think of a way to convince her that this was _enough_.

Or convince himself.

His hand dropped from her cheek and tucked under her arm, reaching around for her shoulder from the front. She smiled lazily as he pulled her in and his head down, trying not to think about the fact that it was armor touching her and not him.

“Hey,” she murmured, chuckling as he let out a sigh. “You promised, none of that now.”

“Good sigh,” he said, smiling faintly at her faint 'hmmh'. “You sure you're okay?'

“Mhmm. Though I feel a little bad I get to lounge around all naked and you don't.”

“Never been more comfortable,” he said, dropping his hand from her shoulder to wander over her hip, idly stroking across the script inked into her skin. Human script wasn't as aesthetically attractive as Asari, but it was becoming more popular for designs. He'd seen a Krogan with a human script tattoo a while back- he wondered if it had actually said what it was meant to.

“I lied,” Faith said in an idle murmur, after glancing up at his tracing finger. “About that.”

Hard to be annoyed with her right now. “About what?”

“The tattoo,” she laughed, settling back down, head cradling on her arm. “I got it to-”

When she stopped, forehead furrowing, he quietly urged her on. “Hmm?”

“Reclaim my body, I guess. Someone in my life made me feel like a...commodity. An investment. A thing, not a person. They were just the worst offender in a long line of them. You know, when they start putting your face and name out there, for whatever reason, it can feel like you don't belong to yourself any more,” she murmured, eyes faraway and melancholy. “They tried to take choices away from me, and I- well, I sort of threw a tantrum and threw away my whole life.”

“Is that why you quit gymnastics?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah. I think being out there in the public eye- it was what I wanted. It was what I wanted, but in a lot of ways it screwed me up, too. I was just done. I had a goal, and because of being sick so often, it slipped past me. I don't deal well with failure,” she said wryly.

“You?” he asked mockingly, and laughed at the slap to his hand on her stomach. He turned his palm over, and her fingers laced through his. He still remembered what her skin felt like, when he'd been holding her hand under the table like a silly kid afraid of getting caught. It had almost been shocking how soft and smooth she was- probably for the best that's the only time he'd touched her like that.

It would have made this even harder than it already was.

“I never realized I didn't want it any more for so long...and when I did, I tried to free myself and people basically told me I didn't have the right. That it wasn't about me, it wasn't my choice. I had to fight. I fought to free myself, and I did, I reclaimed myself.” She smiled sadly. “Hence the tattoo. Art for the sake of art.”

“I can't think of a much better reason.”

“Colony markings are pretty cool, too,” Faith said, smiling faintly to herself. “You have Palaven markings, right?”

“That's right,” he said, though why he was surprised she'd identified them, he didn't know. Nothing seemed to get by her, even if she kept it to herself.

“Why blue? I've never seen a turian with blue colony tattoos before.”

“Ah, after my father,” he admitted, a little embarrassed. “He has a very pale carapace, so he opted out of the usual white. It's not required that they be white, it's just more...common. Shows up on more tones.”

“Mmh. Do you take after your mom, then?” When he immediately went still, hand stopping its stroking of her hip, she sighed and closed her eyes. “I stepped in it.”

He could figure out that idiom easily enough. “No, it's...I don't talk about her much. It's still a little raw, star.”

She let out a slow sigh, fingers tightening in his. Turning her head, she briefly pressed her lips to his helmet resting on her shoulder, their eyes meeting at the awkward angle. “I'm sorry for your loss,” she said simply, quietly.

“Thanks. Is it okay if we drop it? I'm not great at talking about death.”

“Absolutely,” she said with a nod, turning her attention back to the vid playing on the edge of the bed, absently scratching at her shoulder. “I'm not great at it either. I feel like it's always easier if you're religious.”

Strangely, he actually did get that. “It must be nice to feel like someone else has already figured it out for you.”

“Exactly!” she laughed, and then reached out. When she freed her hand from his and stretched out, he protested wordlessly and grabbed at her waist. “Stop it!”

He relented with an annoyed sigh.

She turned over on her stomach and reached down off the edge of the bed, and- okay, that was all right, too. Idly he reached down and groped her ass. Faith laughed faintly, the sound trailing off into a sigh as he ran a finger up her back. Her markings- the freckles were fainter across her back and legs, but still there. He was idly trailing lines between them when she pulled up onto her elbows, peering back at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Making constellations,” he replied, amused when that made her cheeks turn pink.

“I hated my freckles when I was little,” she admitted, pulling up and turning on her side, facing him now. He was glad she didn't wince when she saw the helmet- while he got it, neither of them needed to feel worse about this. Especially not tonight.

The item she'd been hunting for appeared to be a book with a bright red cover and more bold human script on the front. It looked battered and worn, paper cover creased with white lines, stained. She dropped it between them, and opened it with one hand. Right, she'd mentioned it before.

“Well, I like them. That your grandfather's book? What did you call it? The Art of War?”

“Mhmm. I would be shocked if there wasn't a turian translation out there, seems like it'd be right up your guys' alley. I guess the religion talk made me think of it. This is sorta my holy book. Helps me calm my mind and focus, you know?” She ran her thumb along the edge of the pages, smiling to herself. It turned wistful.

Not really enjoying the expression, he slid his hand up to her hip, giving a little squeeze. It didn't work. There wasn't a lot he could do in their current state, all the other ways he'd like to show his affection blocked off due to how things were between them. It did bother him. He just tried not to let it.

Not tonight.

“Star.”

“Sorry. You're going to have to give me a second to break the rules,” she said, smile easing at his long sigh. “Just a second, please? This is important.”

“Well, I screwed up earlier, so I suppose I can allow it,” he said, less than thrilled.

“If I don't make it, I want you to have it,” she said, resting her hand on the cover of the book.

He had to fight back his instinctive denial, forcing it down. There was nothing Garrus wanted to hear less than this, but he understood needing to say it- he probably should himself. They were going into something...well, he'd already almost lost her a few times now.

“I don't have a lot of- of stuff. You know? Especially not sentimental stuff, I have trouble getting attached to things. Just this and my N7 uniform and my medals, really. And those are going to my mom, so. It would mean a lot if you promised that if the worst happens...”

He was silenced by the gesture, and a little dumbfounded. Why him? It wasn't like he could even read it- why not give it to Joker? Still, he knew it was hard for her to express herself like this, and there was no way he could say no...

Resting his hand over hers, he smiled as she turned her palm over and laced her fingers through his. “Yeah. Okay, I promise. Now how about we never discuss that again?”

“Sure,” she agreed with a smile, tucking her head back down on her arm.

“Maybe you could keep it under your pillow instead of the gun,” he suggested, not bothered by her scowl. He tapped a finger on her lips. “Just a suggestion.”

“Not yet, okay?” she asked, glancing down and aside. “Not yet.”

His finger slid down under her jaw, and he nodded, leaning down as she tilted her chin up. Their foreheads met as best they could. He didn't think he'd ever actually explained the gesture to her, but like the way she curled in afterwards and pressed her lips to his shoulder- some things didn't really need to be said out loud. They both knew what it was.

When she reached over her shoulder and absently scratched the skin again, he froze. Glancing down, he could see it, a spreading flush across her freckled skin that he knew wasn't the same thing that made her cheeks turn pink. This was red. Angry red.

_Not again._

They'd been so careful, but-

No, he couldn't lie to himself. They were not being careful, and that was obvious.

“Star,” he said simply, beginning to pull back from her. That sad, sick feeling was rising again, guilt and frustration settling heavily.

“I- what?” she asked, smiling as she pulled back from his shoulder. Her eyes met his, and the easy expression faded away. “What?”

He nodded towards her hand on her shoulder, and she glanced down at it. The redness was spreading, and when she abruptly pulled to her feet and turned away from him in a flurry of activity, he could see it was creeping across her back. Garrus pulled up to sit, feeling helpless as she moved immediately for her closet.

She was completely in control, and he'd never felt more lost in his life.

“I'm sorry, I-”

“It's not your fault,” she said briskly, the lightness in her voice hollow. “I'm still up! Means I didn't ingest anything.” She pulled a small injector out of the closet and pressed it to her thigh.

“I'm so sorry, I tried to-”

“Stop,” she said, more brittle this time, fingers massaging her thigh as she pulled out a pair of underwear. “I will not and I cannot hear that right now. No fault here. No fault, okay?” She sounded almost desperate now. “No fault. Please, I can't handle it right now.”

“Okay,” he said numbly.

Yanking on her underwear, leaving off rubbing her thigh, she pulled on one of her loose shirts and a pair of shorts. Garrus just sat on the bed, trying to think of something to say. Trying to think of something to feel that wasn't him accusing himself of being stupid and reckless. It was her safety that was most important. How had he forgotten that?

“I need to go get steroid cream and an antihistamine. Hopefully the doc isn't in,” she said cheerfully, not looking in his direction a single time. “Everything's fine, babe, I promise. Do you think you could clear out while I'm at medi-bay? I need to decon the bed. I'll call you when I'm settled?”

Shepard didn't give him a chance to reply, passing through the archway. He listened to the door open and close, staring at his hands. Her words didn't do much to reassure him. In his mind all he could think about was how much worse it could have been, what it had felt like the first time, when her heart stopped, throat collapsed...

That was it, wasn't it? They'd gotten their few hours to pretend reality didn't exist, and now it was over. He could have killed her.

Garrus left Shepard's room.

Tali was in the medi-bay.

There was some relief in that, because when she'd stepped in and realized she wasn't alone, she'd had to fight the urge to flee. But no, it was Tali. Sitting on a bed, fiddling with her omni-tool, she glanced up as Shepard entered and headed right for her cabinet.

“Shepard?” she asked, sounding a little nasal.

“Minor reaction. How's yours doing, sick-buddy?” she asked cheerfully despite the pit in her stomach. Garrus had seemed so upset.

“Only a small bacterial infection,” Tali said, finger sliding down the menu of her omni-tool. “The targeted antibiotics are working, it will just take some time. I located the issue in my suit's backup systems and have dealt with it, but I think it might be time to design a new system.”

“Glad to hear, I was worried,” Shepard admitted, pulling down the bottle of her strongest antihistamines. She could feel her heart beating too hard from the damn injection, skin heating as a prickle of sweat gathered on her temples and back of her neck. Maybe it'd been overkill, but she'd rather that than be laid low tomorrow.

“I may not be an expert on humans, Shepard, but...you do not look well.”

“I had to take an injection that fucks with me a little, I'll be fine,” Shepard assured. “Will it bother you if I take off my shirt?”

“No,” Tali assured. “But if it makes you uncomfortable I can turn my back.”

“Ah, I'm not shy,” Shepard laughed, tossing back the pills, dry, and then yanking her shirt over her head. The heat and prickling was spreading. A particularly itchy rash, which was the worst. It didn't feel like the metal allergy, which meant the cover up had worked. She'd been right, it was cross-contamination. Not his fault, they'd both been reckless.

Shepard couldn't claim she regretted it. She just regretted that she'd gone and ruined the memory with her stupid reaction. Hopefully he'd remember the good parts, and not the parts that involved her being a broken piece of crap.

“Shit, right, I need to clean off, first,” she sighed, stepping aside and yanking open a drawer. “Antiseptic wipes...where the hell are they?”

“I'm not certain, my suit handles that,” Tali said apologetically. “Maybe just use the medigel? It sterilizes.”

“Right, good idea,” Shepard agreed. She was in the midst of pulling down a pouch of it from the cabinet when the door opened. She froze.

“Tali are you-” Doctor Chakwas' voice cut off. There was a long pause, Shepard's shoulders lifting towards her ears like a kid getting caught. Finally, the doctor sighed. “Shepard, you know we need to record your reactions.”

“Just trying not to ruin your evening,” Shepard quipped. Half-turning towards the doctor, she flashed her most charming smile, reaching up and raking her tumbled hair back from her face. “It's just a rash. I'm...”

Chakwas stepped closer, gaze too penetrating to lie to. It swept over her, noting symptoms with a calculating efficiency. “You're showing signs of a reaction to an epinephrine injection, Shepard. You don't take your epi-pen for a rash.”

“I do when I panic!” she said cheerfully, beginning to tear open the medi-gel until the doctor gestured her curtly to a bed. Chastised without a word, she slumped over, giving Tali a woebegone look. “See, now I'm in trouble.”

“I would think you would be used to being in trouble, Shepard,” Tali said with a giggle.

“You took an antihistamine,” the doc said, turning over the bottle. Couldn't hide that. Damn it. “Let me get the steroid cream.”

“I have to sterilize first,” Shepard said quietly, rather than lie. When Doctor Chakwas turned and looked at her, there was tension there she knew she couldn't weasel her way out of. “Cross-contamination, I need to clean the skin.”

She wouldn't let herself feel shame. Shepard had spent her entire life toeing the fucking line, following every doctors' orders, doing what she had to do to get by. She didn't fucking care. It was over, the worst was inevitable, and so what if she suffered a little for it? Better to suffer a little than to never know.

One of them might die at the end of all of this, it was worth it.

“Is this what I believe it is?” the doctor asked cautiously, pulling down a box of antiseptic wipes and approaching. “And do you need to take off your shorts?”

“Tali knows,” Shepard said bluntly, and then lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “I don't have anything to hide. Yeah, it is. What can I say? We thought we were careful, but apparently not careful enough.”

The disappointment was possibly in her head, but even so, it was heavy in the air. Sliding from the bed, she slung her shorts down to her knees. Whatever, Tali could see her butt. She couldn't feel that the rash had spread that far, but who knew, considering.

“Shepard, I'm sorry,” Tali said quietly.

“So am I,” she said, voice briefly tightening, eyes prickling. “So am I.”

The antiseptic wipe was cold on her overheated skin, making her shiver. She kept her head down, lips tight, waiting for the lecture. Shepard knew she deserved one- hell, maybe on some level she even wanted one, but Doctor Chakwas said nothing.

She could hear her heart pounding in her ears.

Slowly, methodically she held still as her skin was cleaned. Waiting for something to be said. Waiting for the punishment. The weight of the silence was crushing, demanding she say something, but she didn't want to.

“Tali?”

“Everything appears within normal perimeters, doctor.”

“Wonderful. I won't keep you any longer,” Doctor Chakwas said. “Contact me immediately if your bio-readings change or the bacteria stops responding to the treatment.”

“Yes, Doctor,” Tali agreed, and Shepard heard her stand and head for the door. It opened, and closed without further commentary.

Shepard braced herself.

The pile of used antiseptic wipes were tossed into recycling and Chakwas pulled out another one, going back to work. Shepard lifted her arm when directed, turned, waited for the other shoe to drop. The silence was killing her.

_Just fucking say something._

The sterilization was thorough, and silent. When it was finally done, she endured the steroid cream being applied, watching it sink into her arm. The rash had stopped spreading, but it was extensive, a fucking red mark of shame spread across her back and sides, a violently red patch on her stomach. Like a fucking record of her sins.

“Just say it,” she finally said, tense and tight.

“Is there anything I could possibly say that you haven't said to yourself?” Doctor Chakwas asked, too calm.

“I don't know, I'm sure you're pretty good at lectures. I'd love to hear it, I'd hate to deny you the opportunity,” Shepard said flippantly.

“Yes, I can tell you want me to,” Doctor Chakwas agreed, opening another packet of steroid cream. “Are you all right?”

For a second she formulated a joke, and then abandoned it for a lie, and finally admitted, “no. Not even a little. It's...I don't know. We could dissect my psych profile to find out why I did it, I suppose. Like one of those seek and find puzzles, but with all the fucked up parts of my brain!”

“You're not a file, Faith, you're a person,” Doctor Chakwas said quietly. “I suppose after so many years of being pulled apart it might feel that way.”

It was probably the worst thing that she could have heard. Cracked right through the shell, letting the emotions ooze out, no matter how much she wanted to keep them back. Damn it.

She was too tired for more lies.

“I just wanted a _little_. Just for us to get to be happy for one goddamn night, that was all. I wanted to fucking pretend that it wasn't already over. I'm not stupid. I swear I'm not.” Tears spilled, trickling down the line of her jaw as she stared at the wall, hands clutching the edge of the bed.

“I know you aren't, Faith.”

“I tried. I fucking tried to drive him off, and I couldn't do it. I just couldn't. And I know this is the stupidest thing I've ever done. It's not fair. We never even had a chance.”

The hand on her shoulder turned her around, and despite the tears she was still bracing herself for a scolding, or worse. It didn't come. The sympathy on Chakwas' face shattered her, and she collapsed into the hug that she was offered, crying starting in earnest.

“Oh, my dear,” Doctor Chakwas sighed as Shepard clutched at her, forehead pressing in. “I am so sorry.”

It helped, though she felt guilty at how different it was. This was a real hug, without bullshit in the way, without all the safety precautions and fear and worry- it was only a hug. As much as being around Garrus made her happy, it wasn't the same and it couldn't ever be. It wasn't even about romance, or sex, or anything like that- it was about physical contact and comfort without fear.

Two things he really couldn't give her.

They weren't even really over- they hadn't ever been real in the first place.

“We'd both be so miserable,” she murmured, not feeling the melancholy any lessened for having been acknowledged. “Just, so fucking miserable. Maybe not right away, but eventually, and it would get worse every time we fucked up and I had a reaction, and if he killed me...no, I couldn't ever do that to him.”

“You care about Garrus a great deal.”

“I do,” she admitted, pulling back and wiping her face. The mostly-naked part didn't even really register, she'd spent her whole life partially dressed around doctors. “Too much to do this to him. It'll be over soon. And then...we'll go our separate ways.”

“It's for the best,” Doctor Chakwas said, hands on her upper arms, smile gently sympathetic. “It's no way to live, Faith. Not for him, and not for you.”

“I just wanted us to be happy for a little while,” she said again, that hurt small and pitifully sad.

“I know,” Doctor Chakwas sighed.

When Faith nodded her head at the slight squeeze to her arms, the doctor released her and stepped back, cleaning up the detritus of her treatment. Faith reached for her shirt, and then stopped, heaving a faint sigh. Right. Contamination.

“Do you need to decontaminate your quarters?” Doctor Chakwas asked, still completely nonjudgmental.

“Yeah,” Faith said, resigned and tired. She could feel the panicky cadence of her heart slowing again, and with it a wave of exhaustion.

“Vitals monitoring tonight. No arguments,” Doctor Chakwas said, turning for the cabinets to pull some things down for her.

Taking her penance like a good girl, Faith nodded. “Yeah.”

When she returned to her quarters, it was skirting the mess and hoping no one would catch her in the fucking hospital gown. There were some people chattering, still up in this early time of night, but moving quickly she managed to avoid them. Maybe she'd been noticed, maybe not.

The doors slid open and she stepped in- Garrus was gone.

That was a relief, she didn't want to have to risk any more exposure. She doubted he wanted to either. Although the bathroom probably needed decon more than the rest of her room, she focused on the bedroom only. He'd even been thoughtful enough to take the glasses out with him which was appreciated, but she still wiped the desk down.

Gloves and a mask- embarrassing if anyone had been around to see it.

Meticulously she cleaned, stripping the bed, spraying it down, replacing things. Even granddad's book got an extremely careful wipe-down of the cover, despite the fact that the old paper probably couldn't take it. She tucked it away securely again.

It was overkill, but she couldn't risk him feeling even worse if she had another reaction.

The itching was gone, but the tender redness of the rash remained when she finally managed to get to bed, climbing in and staring at the ceiling. She was exhausted. Not tired, just worn-out in the body and the heart. Her mind was still racing, though.

Attaching the vital monitoring patches, and then the sleep ones, she resigned herself to a restless night.

When her omni-tool beeped with a message, she brought it up and stared at the screen. Just a check-in from Garrus, a simple 'you all right?'. She sent back an affirmative, and then a good night. Despite everything, she couldn't bring herself to call him.

Shepard was too afraid she'd say something to bring them both down, and she wanted to preserve what she could of the happy memories. They had been fleeting, and tainted by her body's stupidity, but they were still comforting. There was some good there, some happiness. She just wanted to hold onto it for as long as she could.

When he called, she didn't reject it- she just didn't answer.

Garrus didn't call again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday! Only a few chapters left of ME1 :D


	32. Chapter 32

“Bridge to Commander Shepard. We're five minutes out from the Mu Relay.”

Garrus glanced back over his shoulder at the door to Shepard's quarters.

He hadn't actually expected Faith to answer in the first place, and now that she had he wasn't sure what to say. But it seemed it didn't matter anyways. It was too late.

“Thanks, Joker. On my way,” Shepard said, but her eyes were still fixed on him, leaning against her closet with her arms crossed. “What's up?”

Her voice was too easy, too casual for his taste. She should be upset, especially considering they hadn't spoken since she'd left in a rush. Sure, she'd said good night, but-

Garrus was unsettled by how unaffected she seemed.

“I felt like we should talk?”

Faith sighed, and then smiled and tilted her head to the side. “Hey. I told you last night, it's fine. These things happen, and yeah, it sucked, but I'm a hundred percent fine. I promise.”

“Then why didn't you answer my call?”

Her smile faltered, turning lopsided and rueful. The soft crackle of her voice was a little raspier than usual- he wondered if that was his fault. “I wasn't good company. I needed to sort through some stuff in my head, and- I don't regret it. Last night, I mean. Not a single second, and I didn't want you to either, just 'cause my stupid body fucked things up again.”

He tried to keep his frustration out of his voice, but he knew it was there. “How could I hold that against you, Faith? I should have been more careful-”

“I don't want that,” she interrupted him quickly, lifting both hands, fending him off. “I get it, I do, but I don't want that. Please. If you can do anything for me, Garrus, it's that. I don't regret it, and I don't blame you. If you regretted it, I couldn't handle it- I need it to be a good memory.”

Memory.

The word hit like a rampaging krogan, harsh and honest. All he wanted to do was apologize, find a way to fix things, but he knew she'd already decided it was over. So had he, last night, but then he'd twisted it around in the other direction, and then back and forth, and-

“I don't regret it, Faith, but I still want to find a way to make it work,” he said, unable to hold it back any more. “I tried, but I can't feel like this is it. I don't want to give up.”

“It's not giving up, it's understanding that we walked into a rigged situation, and there's some fights we can't win. Now isn't the time, okay? We've got a big fight ahead of us, Garrus, and I understand if you don't want to be at my back today, but-”

“Don't say that,” he interrupted her, more harshly than he'd meant to.

Faith just raised an eyebrow, smile easy. “Well then. Let's go. We're gonna get him. That's what we need to focus on right now. Fall in, Vakarian.”

She was right.

The fact that she was right didn't negate that she'd said it to make him drop the subject, which should have annoyed him. It wasn't time to be pissed at her, though. It was time to get Saren.

“Yes, ma'am,” he said.

They traveled to the bridge in silence while he tried to focus his mind on the mission and set aside everything else. He'd heard often enough that his single-mindedness was his biggest flaw or his biggest strength, but whichever it was, it was failing him today. The distracted fracturing of his thoughts would go away once they were fighting.

It had to.

Liara and Ash were on the bridge as they approached the front, Shepard immediately moving to rest an arm on Joker's chair. Her posture was as casual as ever, but he could see the tension in her profile. Garrus paused between the other two, folding his arms as he stared at the screen.

“Almost there, Commander. Ilos should be just past the relay, no delay.”

“Remind me again, Liara? We basically know jack shit about Ilos?”

“I have discovered references to Ilos in other Prothean ruins, but little information otherwise, Shepard,” Liara said. “But it seems to have been an important planet to the Protheans.”

“Important enough to have our conduit, at least,” Shepard muttered.

“Hitting the relay, Commander, in five...”

They all braced themselves, but Shepard stayed relaxed, hand on her hip as she stared at the approaching relay. Who knew what they'd find on the other side? They really had no idea the amount of geth ships Saren had command of. The idea of going to war with an army without having any idea of its size...

Joker counted down and they shot through the relay, existence beyond the ship streaking by until they dropped back down into it with a transition that was always violent. He was watching and waiting, and saw the instant they dropped in that his concerns were true. That was a _lot_ of ships.

“We've got company,” Joker said.

“Have their sensors picked us up yet?” Liara asked worriedly, stepping closer.

“The stealth systems _are_ engaged,” Joker said, a little tight. “Unless we get close enough for a visual, they won't have any idea we're here.”

“Let's keep it that way,” Shepard said.

“Picking up some strange readings from the planet's surface,” Pressley called.

“Sounds like a party that I'd love to crash. Take us down, Joker, lock in on the coordinates. And try not to make any friends on the way, huh?” Shepard ordered easily.

“Negative on that, Commander,” Pressley said, “the nearest landing zone's two klicks away.”

Damn it.

No way they were going to catch up easily if they had to go chasing after him again. Nothing ever seemed to be easy when it came to Saren. They just couldn't catch a break.

“You'll never make it in time on foot,” Ash said, practically speaking his thoughts. “Get us something closer!”

“There is nothing closer!” Pressley snapped. “I've looked!”

Tensions were starting to get high, but he could see Shepard was still relaxed. She leaned around the chair, meeting Joker's brief glance. “You gonna drop me in the Mako again?”

“You need at least a hundred meters of open terrain to pull off that, Commander! The most I can find near Saren is twenty!” Pressley called.

“You need to find another landing zone!” Ashley said, still irritable.

Shepard cut a hand through the air, speaking over Pressley's argument and shutting it down. “Enough. We can do it. Joker?”

“Hell yes we can, Commander.”

“But Commander-” Ashley protested.

“There are circumstances in which the greatest daring can be the greatest wisdom,” Shepard said, giving Joker's chair a gentle cuff. “Gunnery Chief, the time for crazy shit has come, I'm not letting him get away from me this time. Garrus, Liara, gear up and get in the Mako, I'll be right behind you.”

“Yes, Commander,” Liara said.

Garrus just nodded, turning and heading for the elevator with Liara at his side. She gave him a puzzled glance, but stayed silent until the elevator doors slid closed.

“Are you all right?” she asked. “It isn't like you to be so quiet.”

“Ash was being loud enough for both of us,” he said, shaking his head. “I'm...fine, Liara. Just ready to finally have this over with. Trying to focus on what's important- getting Saren.”

“I think Ashley is worried. She still feels guilty over Kaidan's loss, even though Shepard has done her best to be reassuring.”

“It'll take time- it always does,” Garrus said, thinking of Shepard's own nightmare-filled nights, her guilt. Not being there for her last night bothered him, but she'd drawn a line and made the choice. And...he was thinking about it again, when he was trying not to. Damn.

Getting into his armor and selecting his weapons was a routine that helped settle his mind.

Shepard arrived double-time as they were finishing, nodding to both of them in passing as she geared up, silent and focused. There was definitely tension in the air. This was risky, but she'd been right- it was time for risk. But still-

“You're going to need to use the vertical jets to manage a landing,” he told her as she slung her assault rifle over her back.

“Yeah. No room to consume the momentum otherwise,” she agreed, eyes unfocused for a second, calculating. “Joker's amazing at timing the drop, but this is galaxy level. Always a chance we'll be off enough to hit something, so we'll need to strap in anticipating a crash. It doesn't matter, as long as we land.”

“It's in the best condition it probably could be in, so we should be all right even if we crash.”

Shepard smiled, tense, closing her locker. “I appreciate all the fiddling you've done with it.”

“You can pay me back for the low price of one rogue Spectre.”

She reached out and cuffed his shoulder, and they turned towards the vehicle. Liara was already in, waiting for them as they both slung in. Shepard immediately turned on the console, even before the door had closed, and strapped herself in while it loaded up. He did the same with the weaponry console- no point assuming they wouldn't need it.

“In place, Joker.”

“Coming in hot, Commander. ETA fourty five seconds.”

“You got the music?” Shepard asked him, the orange lights of the console gleaming in her eyes as they shifted towards him.

“Sure,” he agreed, bringing up his omni-tool. It was easy enough to scroll through Shepard's library- her organization method seemed to consist of a little symbol next to each song that indicated...mood, probably? Scrolling down the list, he came across a familiar-unfamiliar word. Something that Shepard had said before that hadn't quite translated. Desperado. Had a little crying face next to it, though, so probably not appropriate for right now.

Something to listen to later, maybe. He sorted by symbol instead, having noticed before that the ones marked with what he could only assume was yet another human hand gesture tended to be the loud ones. He chose one at random, aggressive guitar immediately blaring from the Mako's speakers.

Garrus could see Shepard relax out of the corner of his vision.

They needed to be focused for this, ready. Even if he couldn't sort his own head out, he needed to shunt it all aside for now and worry about what mattered. Keeping Faith safe.

“Hang on tight. With any luck, we'll land right on top of the bastard's head,” Shepard said, grinning ferally.

“Now there's an idea,” he mused.

“Hey Joker!”

“In ten...” he said through comms, tense and tight. Concentrating.

“I know you're a little busy right now,” Shepard joked, still grinning. “But when you get a minute, I bet a hundred credits on myself. And five that I'm the one who takes Saren down.”

“Hey!” Garrus protested.

And then the bottom dropped out out from underneath them.

Shepard should be relieved the drop had gone flawlessly.

Right now, though, she was just fucking furious. “Bastard! I had him!” she snarled, slapping both hands on the closed blast door that had cut her off from Saren. “Tell me you can get through this!”

“Negative,” Garrus said, dropping his arm, omni-tool fading away. “Sorry, Shepard. It's Prothean, no idea how to even start hacking into it.”

She'd seen his fucking face! And the bastard, yet again, turned around and scurried off. Fuck Saren, fuck his stupid hoverboard and his geth and his smug asshole face. Cowardly ass.

“And there is no way we are getting through that door with brute force,” Liara said, taking a step back as Shepard cursed, slapping her hands on the door again.

“Listen, Saren got in somehow,” Garrus pointed out, sounding so calm she was almost annoyed with him. He was being awfully low-key today, considering. “There must be some kind of security override somewhere in this complex.”

Pushing off the door with both hands, she bit back a growl and unslung her rifle. “We'll figure out a way to get this shit running. There's obviously power going to the place. There's going to be geth everywhere.”

“More chances for me to kick your ass, Shepard,” Garrus said casually.

 _Too_ casually.

“Stop trying to sweeten me up,” she accused, gesturing to the left with her rifle. “I'm fine, just sick of him being a cowardly little bitch. Come on.”

“I'm the uptight one, I just don't want you cutting in on my whole thing, Shepard,” Garrus replied, not seeming in the least bit apologetic.

She wished he was upset with her; for some reason that would make her feel better. It'd fucking hurt when he told her he wanted to make it work. Even after everything, she couldn't fathom it. It was him that'd be suffering if they did, it'd be him making the sacrifices. It'd be him holding his breath wondering when he was going to hurt her again.

She tried to vent her feelings into the geth they fought without getting too sloppy- the last thing she wanted was a lecture.

There was something viscerally satisfying about slicing off metal heads, blowing their bodies full of holes until they collapsed, sparking and smoking. It wasn't nearly as satisfying to hurt actual people. Mostly because it felt kind of psychotic to enjoy killing a person. Still, she could enjoy the fighting without celebrating the deaths.

Garrus and Liara were at her back, so naturally that she didn't have to second-guess anything she did. One less thing off her mind. Instead she could focus on cutting through efficiently, and hopefully burying her feelings in the adrenaline.

Feelings.

They were there, and they were mutual, and denying that wouldn't do a damn thing to help her kill them. How could he fucking ask her if they could try, after everything? After knowing what a fucking mess she was, not just physically, but in the head, too. After she hurt him like she had, deliberately.

Great, now she was starting to get pissed at him.

Now was really not the time for them to have another little mid-battle blowup, especially not in front of Liara. Time to be focused. She needed to shrug it off, set it aside for now like she had been earlier.

Eventually they found themselves at another door similar to the blast doors from before, but with a big old glowing green button next to it.

“Green means go,” she declared, giving a small snort. “I guess some things transcend species. Liara?”

“Yes, I believe it is an elevator,” Liara said.

“Good enough,” Shepard said, stepping closer and jabbing the button with her pistol. Nothing exploded. The doors just opened.

“If my study of other Prothean ruins is accurate, the command center should be just beyond here,” Liara said, as they all stepped inside.

“This place still has power, just like you guessed. Must be a generator somewhere,” Garrus said as they trooped inside.

The elevator started going down immediately, and if she'd been less mired in her head it would have been a perfect opportunity for another joke about slow turian elevators. Instead she tapped her fingers against her gun and glared at the wall. Fuck. She needed to take Saren down.

The doors slid open, and Liara stepped out first, glancing around. “Yes, this seems like it may be the command center beyond here. We will have to figure out how to disengage the security lockdown if we want to get inside that bunker.”

There was a flash of light up the slope from where they stood, and Shepard jolted forward, pushing Liara to the side. “Get down! More geth!”

The shot went high, impacting against the door behind them as Shepard surged forward. It was one of the big ones. Good, she needed the practice. Medi-gel had taken care of all the hits she'd taken so far, but as they cleaned the room out and headed upwards there was a new scorch mark on her upper arm. She couldn't tell how damaged it was.

Hopefully not enough to expose her to atmo- the last thing she needed was to start sneezing or get another fucking rash. This place was full of foreign plants. Where there were plants, there was pollen. Or whatever the equivalent airborn bullshit was.

Finally they found the security console, still activated from whatever Saren's people had done. She turned it off, praying that they hadn't lost too much ground chasing down the bastard, and then turned around to leave. At least, she was until she heard a strange crackle of sound.

Spinning, gun up, she came face to face with a flickering hologram. It cut in and out, but she caught the occasional word. Some sort of recording, or a distress call about the Reapers.

“Weird, I think I recognize that,” Garrus remarked. “But where from?”

“It's Prothean, Garrus, how could you recognize it?” Liara asked, and he shrugged.

“I said I recognized it, not understood it.”

“I understand it,” Shepard said, staring at the hologram still. “It's some sort of recording about the Reapers...something about an archive, and the Citadel...”

“Oh, of course! Between the beacons, and the cipher, an understanding of the Prothean language would have been transferred into your mind,” Liara said, sounding as delighted as she ever did when it came to that junk.

“Oh, that's where I've heard it,” Garrus said absently, and then clarified when Shepard raised an eyebrow at him. “You speak Prothean in your slee-” Abruptly he cut off, clearing his throat awkwardly as he glanced from her to Liara.

Shepard sighed, slapping a hand into her helmet. Jesus Christ. “Subtle, Vakarian,” she muttered turning to tromp back the way they came. “This is too broken up to get any real information from.”

“But-” Liara protested.

“We have to go,” Garrus said hastily, probably half to cover up his own slip. Not that anyone would be surprised or care, Shepard figured, but he got embarrassed easily. “You can always come back another time, it's not like the fifty thousand year old ruins are going anywhere.”

“I suppose that is true,” Liara sighed.

The trek back to the Mako was quiet, and much faster without any geth in the way. Shepard appreciated Liara not saying anything about Garrus' slip-up, but then again it wasn't like it would have surprised anyone at this point. Finding out she spoke Prothean in her sleep wasn't exactly a shock, she supposed. She'd always been the kind to sleep restlessly, and Liara had warned her that she might dream in it.

Trying to speak it consciously probably wouldn't work, but if she knew Liara, after all of this was over she'd probably start trying to figure out if Shepard could. Well, if they survived and Shepard wasn't locked up, she'd let Liara dig into her brain all she liked. She owed her that much.

Thankfully, the bunker door was open when they returned, and they opted for the Mako instead of going on foot- bastard had a head start and they needed to catch up. Naturally the place was saturated with geth, and they fought their way through the creepy ruins.

Shepard listened with half an ear to Liara and Garrus chatting about the strange hall they were traveling down- he sounded as impatient as she felt to catch up with Saren. A little short with Liara, though- but Shepard understood. It was a little tough to listen to her fangirling over the ruins when they were trying to stop the damn galaxy from being destroyed.

When the barrier at the end came into view, blocking their way forward, she cursed, Mako skidding to a stop.

“Shepard, it could be a trap!” Garrus called out as she swung out of the vehicle.

She ignored him. Her first shot did nothing, absorbed by the field rather than ricocheting- the second shot was just because she was annoyed. Grabbing a small cracked piece of whatever the substance was that made up the place, she hucked it at the orange, glowing energy. It fragmented in a spray of grit, and she growled under her breath.

“Hey,” he grabbed her arm, but let her shake him off as she turned to face him. “Come on, there's gotta be a way to take this down.”

“Stop worrying about me, it's pissing me off,” she replied, noting an entrance past him and ducking around him to head for it.

She heard him sigh from behind her, exasperated.

The entrance led to a set of stairs, and eventually to a long walkway that seemed to end in another console. Hopefully it turned off the field. Not much of a trek, though, if it was an attempt to slow them down by Saren, it wasn't a very good one.

At least that's what she'd thought...until the VI.

Like the fragmented thing they'd seen in the command center, it appeared as a swirl of orange holographic light, not possessed of any particular form or shape. Shepard gestured at the other two to stay back as she approached. Who knew what a Prothean VI was capable of.

“You are not Prothean, but you are not machine, either,” it said as Shepard approached. She dropped her gun. What was she gonna do, shoot a hologram? “This eventuality was one of many that was anticipated. That is why we sent our warning through the beacons.”

Shepard kept her hand up, kept silent- it could say what it needed to say.

“I do not sense the taint of indoctrination upon any of you. Unlike the other that passed recently. Perhaps there is still hope.”

She relaxed, minutely.

“This is incredible,” Liara breathed. “An actual Prothean VI. And I can understand it!”

“I have been monitoring your communications since you arrived at this facility. I have translated my output into a format you will comprehend. My name is Vigil. You are safe here, for the moment. But that is likely to change. Soon, nowhere will be safe.”

Shepard stiffened again. “Explain.”

“You must break a cycle that has continued for millions of years,” the VI said, as if that was a normal thing to tell someone. “But to stop it, you must understand or you will make the same mistakes we did. The Citadel is the heart of your civilization and the seat of your government. As it was with us, and as it has been with every civilization that came before us.”

“Well, now I feel bad blaming the turians for the shitty elevators,” Shepard said under her breath, and heart Garrus snort faintly. It might have been just a hint of a laugh.

Any humor died as Vigil continued. “But the Citadel is a trap. The station is actually an enormous mass relay. One that links to dark space, the empty void beyond the galaxy's horizon.”

_Oh no._

“When the Citadel relay is activated, the Reapers will pour through. And all you know will be destroyed.”

Shit.

Dread tightening into a knot of terror and sick, nauseous panic, Shepard listened numbly to Vigil explain how they were all decidedly fucked. No, no, not yet. And not fucked because she'd sat around and done nothing at all. She quizzed it as briefly as she could stand to, learning about the fucking keepers being some sort of Reaper agents, about how the conduit was a one-way ticket to the heart of the Citadel.

That was all she really needed to know.

When she turned away Garrus was at her side, but Liara stalled. “This is the opportunity of a lifetime, Shepard! A link to the knowledge of the Protheans!”

Shepard tried to keep her temper in check, speaking up before Garrus could. “Saren. Nothing else matters right now.”

“You- you are right. I'm sorry,” Liara said.

“The one you call Saren has not reached the conduit. Not yet. There is still hope if you hurry,” Vigil said.

“That's the best fucking news I've heard all day, Vigil, thanks,” Shepard said. “Come on, you two.”

Double-timing it back to the Mako, Shepard kept a hand on her pistol, mind racing. She'd tried to check in with Joker several times, but nothing. Too many geth jamming things up, comms were down and she didn't have time to figure out how to open them back up. He'd keep the Normandy safe- she just wished she could have told him they might have to take the fucking Citadel express.

“All their culture, all their technology, and the Protheans were taken in by the Reapers, just as we were. They failed,” Liara said, obviously afraid.

Shepard was bracing herself for saying something uplifting and brave, considering it was her job and all, but to her surprise, Garrus got there first.

“They didn't fail,” he denied confidently. “They gave us a chance. It's our job to make the most of it, so we'd better hurry.”

“You're right, Garrus,” Liara said, sounding better.

Shepard smiled faintly to herself as she slung into the Mako, staying silent. She knew she had it in him, even if he didn't see it himself. Garrus was going to make one hell of a Spectre, and she was going to be so fucking proud of him- even from far away.

They just had to save the galaxy first.

No big deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday! :D


	33. Chapter 33

There had been a lot less geth between them and the conduit than Shepard had anticipated.

Sadly, that was a bad thing, not a good one. They made it the entire way without seeing even a hint of Saren, which left them absolutely no choice. It was time for a one-way trip on the Citadel express. It was ahead, waiting for them- a mass relay at ground level, pointing upwards towards the sky. She wasn't sure what the hell it'd do to the integrity of the Mako, but hopefully at least they'd get through in one piece.

“Sorry, Garrus.”

“Hell, Shepard, this is way better than lava,” he replied, tight and focused.

“Liara, be prepared to try and soften the landing for us with whatever biotics you can pull out, I don't know how bad it's gonna be, but I don't need this ending with a snapped neck!” She leaned into the accelerator, giving the bulky vehicle every ounce of power she could for the upcoming ramp.

“Understood!”

Music blaring, she floored it up the ramp to the conduit. Jesus christ, this better work- and more than that, Liara and Garrus better fucking make it. This was literally the coolest thing she'd ever done, and if the only witnesses died-

The universe turned inside out.

It was a flash, barely more than a blink- between one heartbeat and the next everything was chaos. The Mako went upside-down, everything spinning until it came to a short sharp stop. They slammed into something, everything tossed around- it was only the sudden pressure of Liara's biotics that kept her from slamming her head into the wall. Her body strained against the harness- but it was just bruises.

When the Mako came to a stop, she was intact.

“Safe?” she asked hoarsely, stomach trying to decide if it was nauseous or not.

The other two echoed an affirmation, but any other conversation was interrupted by a sudden, familiar rasping noise from outside- husks. Shit. She'd known it was too late, but...

Kicking open the emergency release for the door, she unbuckled herself and slithered out, grabbing her pistol. One of them was immediately on her, but a quick chest-kick and a follow up dash and she had it down, three direct shots to its fucking face keeping it on the ground. But where there was one- there was always more.

She fended them off as Garrus and Liara struggled out of the overturned Mako, trying to fight them further and further away from the vehicle. The last one went down to a sniper bullet from behind Shepard, and she spun, panting. Garrus offered a hand down, helping Liara the rest of the way out of the back of the Mako.

She gave them both a once-over.

Intact.

“Thanks for stealing my kill, Vakarian.”

“Any time,” he said in that lazy, easy drawl she liked so much.

Near the exit, Shepard could see the flickering blue figure of the Citadel VI. A good place to get a status report. Short on time, she kept her questions brief, trying to figure out just how bad things had gotten- and it was. Bad. But she had to know...

“Was the hospital evacuated as well?” she asked, not caring one damn bit about the Council being rescued.

“The patients of Huerta Memorial and Tayseri General Hospital were being evacuated. Although a manifest is not available at this time, there are ten thousand civilian refugees on board the Destiny Ascension,” Avina confirmed.

Shepard sagged, letting out a heavy breath. “Okay. Okay.”

Emi might be safe.

“There's nobody tougher than that little girl, Faith,” Garrus said confidently.

“Council chambers, on the double,” Shepard said briskly, letting out a heavy breath. “We might have to get creative here. I can't lose any more ground to Saren.”

“It might be quickest to navigate via maintenance,” Garrus suggested, and she nodded her head as they headed out.

“The last thing we want is to get hung up in people evacuating,” she agreed.

Unfortunately, the elevators were locked down, necessitating a trip to the outside. With the arms of the Citadel closed, it was disorienting, dizzying, but they quickly found a way in to the maintenance tunnels. She was grateful for Garrus keeping them oriented, otherwise she would have been totally lost.

Geth swarmed the tunnels and corridors, cut down again and again. They weren't flagging, not yet, but when they surged up a slope back to the exterior, unfortunately there was something worse than a few geth waiting for them. A drop ship hovered, glowing orange in the lights that spilled down from the great cities of the Wards that surrounded them.

She took in the field at a glance, gesturing sharply to Garrus. “Get those turrets firing, Cowboy!” The nickname slipped out without her meaning to, but it wasn't time to worry about that. “I need that ship out of my fucking face!”

“On it!”

With Liara at her back, she mowed down the geth that fell from the ship. There was no way her pistols were going to do anything against the drop ship, but once Garrus got its shields down she switched to her rifle and lent her fire. No way she was letting it past her- every damn geth they took down was possibly dozens of people saved.

When it crashed and burned they forged onwards- she knew she was pushing them to their limits, but there wasn't a single complaint. They all understand. It was now or never.

The banter kept going, but it was almost reflexive, counting off the kills, snapping back and forth like they always did. It kept them going.

It kept her going.

A krogan went down with her omni-blade in its throat, severing the artery just like Wrex had taught her- it felt good to actually prove it worked. Efficient, effective, and made her feel like a badass. The body fell, and she rolled out of the way and lithely back to her feet with a bounce. Pistol out, she went surging down a slope towards another tunnel, the grid of city lights overhead like the universe's most orderly constellations.

The last of the geth in their way went down not from her rapid fire, but another sniper bullet.

“Holy shit, Garrus! I know you're behind, but the kill stealing is starting to be a bit much!”

“I'm trying to keep you from _becoming_ a holey shit, Shepard! Sorry, next time I'll let you take the hits,” he retorted, catching up as Liara hefted the body out of the way of their exit. His voice lowered as they caught up. She gave him a once-over. Pretty bad blast to his upper arm that looked like it had gotten through the heavy armor, denting and malforming it. “There should be an access hatch just beyond here that'll get us where we need to go.”

“Medi-gel if you need it,” she said, glancing sidelong as Liara started tending to a scorch in the side of her armor. Looked surface. Good.

Garrus didn't react to the order, the subtle shift of his face plates behind his helmet actually somewhat readable to her now. Puzzled. “What?”

“Upper arm. That decorative?” she asked brusqely.

He glanced over, shifting his rifle in his grip. “Oh, yeah, I forgot about that. Adrenaline.”

“Here,” she said, taking the Volkov out of his hands before he could protest, not giving him a choice. “Hurry. That's an order.”

Garrus didn't bicker with her, removing the outer shell of his armor from shoulder to upper arm, tending to the nasty scorch that blackened his carapace. She could see blue blood seeping from between the plates. Worse than anything she'd gotten.

Faith tried not to panic over it- he'd be fine.

She could feel the burns that had gotten through her armor, but they were all glancing hits, nothing had gotten through her shield enough to do anything besides scorch. When Garrus discarded the piece of his armor after examining it, she noisily cleared her throat and raised an eyebrow. He avoided the look she was giving him.

“It's too damaged, it's interfering with my range of motion,” he said, reaching for his gun. There was a brief moment where she refused to let it go, his grip tightening as she fought him. “Faith. Let go.”

“Put the armor back on,” she countered, but released the gun when his hands twisted slightly. “I don't like you being exposed like that.”

“And I don't like not being able to shoot straight,” he countered. “Let's go. Saren isn't going to wait for us to bicker.”

“Good turians follow orders,” she muttered in annoyance, turning to head into the hall.

“Then I guess I'm not a good turian.”

The retort in his low, comfortable voice demanded a flirtatious response, but she squelched it. It would have helped with the tension in her gut, but not the ache in her heart. Her mind briefly remembered his voice, the quiet frustration.

_I can't feel like this is it._

But it was. It had to be.

This was it.

She dropped through the hatch without a further comment, landing in chaos.

The door in front of her slid open, leading to the council chambers- which were on fire. Everything glowed with an orange hue, and she jolted forward into a run, Liara and Garrus close behind her. No more banter. It'd gotten them here, gotten her through the exhausting combat, but now it was finally time to face him.

Training took over, cold and precise. Running on instincts honed over ten years of pushing herself to the limit, they cut through the remaining barriers between her and Saren. One by one they went down, until she saw him at last.

Silhouetted at the top of the stairs, Saren waited for her, back turned.

Rather than say anything, she bolted forward, dredging up reserves of energy from somewhere. He disappeared. There was a decorative barrier that split the stairs in two, and she vaulted herself up onto it, toe of a foot bracing against the wall, launching her up and over. She landed one knee and immediately surged upright and forward again.

Shepard ignored the shout from behind her, jumping from foot to foot across decorative rocks, dodging around a tree and vaulting off the other side as they hustled to catch up.

Just in time to watch Saren jump off the end of the platform and disappear.

“No!” she shouted, surging after him.

“Faith!”

Single-minded and furious, she barely had time to stall herself when Saren reappeared from the depths. Adrenaline surging through her veins, heartbeat in her ear, she felt for a split second like everything froze. She barely saw the bomb as it was thrown- instinct took over.

Shepard threw herself to the side, but it wasn't fast enough, wasn't far enough. She felt a hand grab her arm, pulling her so hard she almost felt the joint pop again, swung around and in as the explosion impacted behind them. It was deafening.

Garrus had her.

Clutched to his chest, he was kneeling over her, both of them pressed to a low wall. She met his eyes, and saw the pain. Shit. Immediately she struggled free of him, cursing under her breath, in a panic.

“Show me. Show me!” she demanded harshly, flinching when he sagged to the floor.

“I'll be fine,” he said roughly, lifting a hand to her helmet. “You're all right?”

Saren's voice interrupted, cutting through her panic. “I was afraid you wouldn't make it in time, Shepard!”

She closed her eyes, breathed in, and reached up for Garrus' hand, removing it from her helmet. “Sorry, Saren! I wasn't aware we had a date!”

“It is time for the final confrontation. I think we both expected it would end like this.”

She took cover against the wall, and tried not to notice that Garrus had difficulty doing the same. Faith couldn't help the flicker of her eyes when his back hit the wall and he flinched. She could see the bright blue smear of blood on the pale stone. Fuck.

“Turn your back towards me,” she ordered in a tense whisper, dropping her gun and dispensing her medi-gel. Garrus protested wordlessly, but she hissed, “he's going to fucking monologue. He always does. Let me stop the bleeding.”

“You've lost,” Saren said predictably. “You know that, don't you?”

Garrus reluctantly turned towards her, and she surveyed his back at a glance. It was bad. He'd taken the brunt of the blast, part of the back panel of his armor missing from the base of his cowl down to mid-back. She could see the blackened plates exposed by the damage, blood seeping out. Idiot shouldn't have taken the hit for her.

“In a few minutes, Sovereign will have full control of all the Citadel's systems. The relay will open. The Reapers will return.”

Ignoring the pain in her chest and the knowledge that she couldn't possibly help any internal damage or even see the full extent of his injuries, she smeared the medi-gel with a whispered apology. It'd have to be enough. Blue blood smeared her gloves as she desperately applied as much as she could.

It tapped her out- she didn't have anything left to heal herself.

Faith didn't care.

“Oh, I don't know, Saren. You ran away last time before I could show you what I'm really capable of! You might be surprised!” she taunted. Keep him talking, keep him talking.

Garrus pulled away from her hands, slumping back against the wall and meeting her eyes. He gave her a nod. She returned it, and then let out a quiet breath when he reached for her. This time she didn't pull away.

“You survived our encounter on Virmire. But I've changed since then. Improved.”

Garrus cupped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her forehead in against his. Their helmets met, and she let out a quiet sigh. This might be it. For either of them, or both of them, but they wouldn't be going alone.

“Sovereign has...upgraded me.”

Faith's eyes opened.

She pulled back from Garrus, a wave of revulsion overtaking her. He let Sovereign...implant him? The sheer violation of that shouldn't have been a surprise- it was just a sort of Indoctrination of the body, but Faith knew she had a deep-seated horror of having her body violated like that-

“You mean- Saren, how could you let Sovereign do that to you?”

“I have you to thank for it, Shepard. After Virmire, I couldn't stop thinking about what you said. About Sovereign manipulating me. About indoctrination.”

Faith had to admit to herself that she barely remembered that- she'd been trying to get him to talk, trying to draw things out for information. Yes, she'd said all sorts of things trying to appeal to his uh...humanity, but she hadn't actually thought they'd worked. She'd said them because she needed to say them. She'd said them because they kept him talking.

Somehow it'd gotten through.

“The doubts began to eat away at me. Sovereign sensed my hesitation. I was implanted to strengthen my resolve.”

_Oh god._

That was fucking horrifying.

She never thought she'd feel sympathy for Saren.

Faith reached for her pistol, picking it up again, ready to speak, but he was still going.

“Now my doubts are gone. I believe in Sovereign completely. I understand that the Reapers need organics. Join us and Sovereign will find a place for you, too.”

The idea of becoming what Saren was...it made her throat burn. God, it made her want to throw up.

“You're being controlled! Indoctrination, implants, all this is- it's just more control, Saren! This isn't you. Don't you get that?”

No, there couldn't possibly be hope for him, could there? After all this, after everything- she'd been so angry at him all this time. For everything, everyone he'd killed. For Kaidan.

Saren wasn't attacking her.

That was important.

She barely listened to him orating, staring at nothing as her mind raced, feeling Garrus' hand rest on her knee but not able to focus on it, on his worried stare. No. No, this was just another choice. If there was the slightest chance to stop him without any more people suffering, she had to try.

“Join Sovereign and experience a true rebirth!” Was there a hint of desperation there?

“Saren, I can stop Sovereign! We can stop it, together! Step aside and let me keep it from taking control, and none of this has to happen!” she plead.

_There is no mercy unless we make it._

Saren paused, for the first time, and when he spoke again his voice cracked. A crack. It was there, it wasn't only in her head. “We can't stop it! Not forever. You saw the visions. You saw what happened to the Protheans. The Reapers are too powerful!”

It could be fought- she'd seen Benezia do it. And somehow, she'd convinced Saren to fight it, too, until Sovereign had fucking taken over his body.

“You can break free! I know you can! I know you've been violated in ways that no one should ever- but damn it, you know this is wrong! If you didn't, you never would have doubted it!”

Garrus was still staring at her, but she couldn't look at him- couldn't know if he was angry at her again for trying this. She needed to believe he was on her side. Down in her bones, down in her gut and...in her heart, she needed to know that Garrus was at her back.

She reached down for his hand on her thigh, and he took it, squeezing her tightly.

“M-maybe you're right,” Saren said, voice cracking. “Maybe there is still a chance for-” He cut off with a groan of pain, and she clutched her gun tightly.

No, no. Let him get free.

His voice was ragged now, struggling. “The implants...Sovereign is too strong. I'm sorry. It's too late for me.”

This time when Shepard spoke, she dug down deep...and she believed it. “It's never too late for anyone, Saren! I'm with you! We can do this, together!”

“You're...going to have to go ahead without me. Goodbye, Shepard.”

She surged to her feet, releasing Garrus as she bolted around cover, ignoring how stupid it was. No, damn it, not like this. Garrus was at her back, and so was Liara, but it was too late.

“Thank you.”

The gun Saren held to his jaw went off, blasting out the side of his head. His eyes rolled up, and he immediately fell backwards, glass shattering as his body impacted. She cringed back, but not fast enough to hear his body thud, impacting on stone below with a visceral, unpleasant noise.

Standing there in shock, gun still out for a fight that never came, she rocked as Garrus grabbed her by the arm. Blinking, she stared up at him, not really seeing, not processing.

“I don't know how the hell you did that, Faith, but-”

“Shepard! You need to take control of the systems with the data that Vigil gave you!” Liara interrupted.

No time.

There was no time.

Shaking her head violently to try and get her brain working again, she tugged herself free of Garrus. The control panel was still glowing as she staggered down the stairs and swung around. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him descend the stairs. A little slow.

“Vakarian, I feel like we need to have a talk about not trying to make friends with bombs,” she said, bringing up her omni-tool. Linking to the station systems was almost instantaneous with the program that Vigil had given her.

“Couldn't let you have all the fun,” he said, a little strained.

“I'm in.”

“If you open the station's arms, the fleet might be able to take Sovereign down,” Garrus said, leaning against a railing.

“That's the hope,” she agreed, opening up a comm channel. “Let's see what's going on out there.”

A voice crackled through almost immediately, assertive and strong. “...the Destiny Ascension. Main drives offline. Kinetic barriers down forty percent. The Council is on board. I repeat, the Council is on board.”

“A distress signal?” Liara said worriedly.

Before Shepard could reply, another voice cut in, blessedly welcome. “Normandy to the Citadel. Normandy to the Citadel. Please tell me that's you, Commander.”

She let out a long, quavering breath. “Yeah, Joker. It's me.”

“Faith,” he said, sounding as relieved as she felt. Then, back to business. “We caught that distress call, Commander. I'm sitting here in the Andura sector with the entire Arcturus fleet.”

“Admiral Hackett?”

“Aye, ma'am. We can save the Ascension. Just unlock the relays around the Citadel, and we'll send the cavalry in!”

Oh god, she knew exactly what that meant.

Protecting a ship damaged that badly meant loss of life- especially against a Reaper. But the whole fleet...surely they'd destroy Sovereign, sooner or later. Had to be possible. The alternative was unthinkable. But...lives. How many?

She couldn't run the numbers. She couldn't. Ten thousand on the Ascension, versus how many Alliance lost? There was no calculating this.

“Shepard, are you really willing to sacrifice that many human lives to save the Council?” Garrus asked.

“I don't know how many soldiers versus ten thousand civilians on the Ascension.” It wasn't a choice, it wasn't even a choice. And... “It has nothing to do with the fucking Council, Garrus. It's about the numbers. Saving the most lives. But which is it?”

“How many will be lost trying to get that ship out of there? How many will be lost if saving the Ascension means they don't have the strength to attack Sovereign? Don't waste your reinforcements. Hold them back until the Citadel arms open up, and then they can attack Sovereign,” Garrus said, and then met her eyes as she stared at him. “It's everyone's best chance, star. It's for the greater good. If we don't get rid of that Reaper, there's no telling how many will die.”

“I can't _calculate_ this,” she said, voice cracking.

His arms wrapped around her, pulling her in, and even though it was over she didn't fight it. “Yes you can, Faith.”

“What's the order, Commander? Come in now for the Ascension, or hold back?”

“There's a good chance Emi isn't even on there,” Garrus said quietly.

Shepard closed her eyes. It didn't matter if Emi was- this was bigger than just one little girl, or Faith's personal feelings about her. It was about the numbers. “Wait until the arms open, Joker! It's Sovereign we have to focus on getting rid of, as quickly as possible!”

“I hope the sacrifice is not made in vain,” Liara said quietly.

Faith just stood there, listening to the comms, trying to breathe. In, and out. Let the training take over, let it wash away the pain. That could come later. It could come later, and when it did she'd memorize every name.

No one would be forgotten.

“Go make sure Saren is dead,” she said quietly, drawing herself up and opening her eyes. A calm settled over her, pushing everything else away. Including Garrus, as she gently extracted herself. “There's no telling what those implants inside of him are capable of, better to make sure he's not suffering any more.”

“Understood,” Garrus said crisply, gesturing to Liara and turning away.

She watched them go.

Shepard was gone, but there was something he needed to tell her.

Garrus faintly heard her after the blast, calling out his name, reassuring him, pulling him to safety. His mind was muddled, hazy- he'd taken a blow to the head. He should have been at her six, but instead he could barely hold his gun.

Saren was back, somehow, but he wasn't sure if it was actually Saren or some sort of geth that had exploded out of his corpse. All he knew was his vision kept fading in and out, and every now and again he'd pull himself up against the shattered concrete and get a shot off. They hit.

They had to, he needed to be at her back- but he couldn't find her.

She moved too fast for him to track, but sometimes he'd hear his name, hear her telling him to hold on. She'd even told him to stop getting blown up, and he'd done it again. Shit, did his head ever hurt.

The fight raged on, and he held to consciousness through it because he was a damn good soldier even if he was a bad turian, and he'd promised to be at her back.

When it finally got quiet, though, it wasn't Shepard at his side, but Liara, worriedly talking to him. He couldn't understand a damn thing she was saying, and he tried to tell her so, but nothing came out. It was starting to hurt. Damn, was it ever starting to hurt.

Where was she?

He tried to ask but he couldn't manage it.

There was medi-gel, but even he knew it wasn't enough. For some reason he also knew he probably wasn't supposed to go to sleep, but right now it was all he wanted to do. Just let everything go black. But no. Faith was gone. He had to stay awake until he knew...

There was more voices shouting, and chaos, and he closed his eyes against it. Every breath was painful, but survivable, but at least he couldn't feel his arm any more. That was probably the medi-gel, and not because it was gone. Probably.

It was all meaningless, hated noise, but then he heard her voice again.

Relief overtook him, and he felt himself relax. It was like she was in a tunnel, distant and echoing and devoid of sense, but it was her and that meant she wasn't gone. The tap to the front of his helmet finally force him to open his eyes, but he couldn't quite focus. Everything was blurry, blurry as his brain.

He blinked rapidly, trying to make the vague shapes and colors mean something, and slowly it became her face.

Faith was bleeding and bruised, cradling her arm against her chest, but she was there, kneeling in front of him. When he finally managed to focus in on her, she smiled. “Hey, Cowboy. I thought I told you to stop that.”

Dead weight, he couldn't manage to lift his hand to touch her cheek, but he tried.

He laughed, painful and too short, ending in a groan. “Yeah, I'm- who got the kill shot?”

This time it was her that laughed, sounding surprised, but pleased. Her voice went soft, easy. “You. It was you.”

“You owe me six hundred credits,” he informed her weakly, and she laughed again. Talking helped, but he could tell he didn't have much left. He wasn't going to be good for anything soon. There was something he needed to tell her. “Hey...”

“Just rest, Vakarian. Doctor's coming. You'll be back on your feet in no time,” she assured him softly, reaching out and resting a hand on her shoulder. She shifted back onto her heels and he finally got his hand to work, reaching up and grabbing hers before it could leave him.

“No I- you can't go yet. There's something I have to say.”

“I'm sure it can wait. Maybe for when we're less banged up?”

Faith could be so damn frustrating. Self-destructive, stubborn, manipulative- she drove him completely nuts. He didn't know how he'd lived this long without her.

“You make me better,” he told her, and she stopped pulling her hand away. Good. That was good, but that wasn't quite what he'd meant to say. “I love you.”

That was.

He was having trouble holding on to her, but he heard her sigh, long and slow. It came from far away as everything escaped from him. He tried to hold on to her, but he'd used up whatever he had left. Consciousness was slipping away.

“We'll talk later,” Faith said quietly.

And then she was gone again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D I think probably one chapter left! I never know for certain >.>


	34. Chapter 34

Choices had been made.

It didn't matter that they were made in an instant, with no time to really understand the repercussions. No planning, no second thoughts, no course corrections. They were done, and then all that was left were consequences. That was the thing about some choices.

You just had to live with them.

The Council was dead.

Even though Shepard understood why to the galaxy that mattered more than the ten thousand civilians her choice had killed, to her it didn't mean jack shit except three more names. Except that she regretted never hashing things out with Sparatus. It would have been nice to see eye to eye for once. Or told him what she thought of him.

One of the two.

She'd ordered Doctor Chakwas to fucking hover over Garrus when they took him off to one of the rapidly cobbled-together field hospitals. A broken arm and a concussion were a lot less important than what other people were dealing with- especially him. He'd lost so much blood. She'd suffered through the bare minimum of treatment for Anderson's sake before sneaking off.

Everything was chaos, and while a lot of people were looking for her, it was easy enough to grab some clothes from the rapidly-filling donation bins outside the hospital and disappear into the Wards. Because she wasn't stupid, she first found the Normandy, sneaked onboard, grabbed her duffle, cleared out her med drawer into it, and grabbed some ration bars. It'd have to be enough. She had an apartment out there...somewhere.

The air cars were all commandeered for triage and evacuation, more and more people spilling into Citadel as the other galactic civilizations sent their troops. It was hard not to be bitter that they were coming _now_ , but it wasn't their fault. Admiral Hackett had been the only one close enough and informed enough to get here.

A squad of turian soldiers went past her as she entered the fringes of Zakera Ward, which looked less damaged than she knew some of the others were. She'd heard whispers of what happened to Tayseri ward. They said pieces of Sovereign had crashed into it. It sounded bad.

Was that her fault, too?

Shepard pulled her baseball cap down and her hood tighter to hide her face.

She had to believe that she'd saved more lives. Had to. It was the only thing she was letting bounce around in her skull right now. No room for anything else.

The first call came in when she'd been gone from the hospital for an hour, trudging along the streets trying to remember the way 'home'. Anderson. She didn't answer- she just let it ring.

_Sorry, David._

Her building was intact.

Shepard snapped back into reality, out of her dazed wandering, staring up at the soaring building packed tightly among the other residential towers of Zakera Ward. White, chased with glowing blue accents and a slightly-twisted structure, it was fairly standard for the area. Not the nicest one, but far from the worst. She hadn't actually ever looked at it before, just rented it through a broker because it was cheap and unfurnished.

There was devastation about three blocks down, but this section was clear- almost like it was mocking her.

There was even power. What kind of bullshit was that?

Resigning herself, she headed for the front doors, which chimed open as they read her omni-tool and let her in. The greenish VI in the front lobby sprang to life- of course it was an Asari. She shifted her attention aside to it.

“Where is my apartment?”

“Commander. Apartment seven oh seven. Seventh floor. Welcome home.”

“That's privileged information. Keep it confidential.”

“Yes, Commander,” the VI said.

She eyed the elevator, and then decided not to risk it, heading for the emergency stairs. There was no guarantee that power wouldn't go out on this grid at any point. The last thing she wanted to do was starve in an elevator. People would be annoyed with her.

The stairs blurred by slowly as she thudded up them one at a time, tired in a way that had nothing to do with sleep. She'd slept after her concussion had been tended to. One flight, two...they slowly went by as she gripped the railing and dragged herself up them. Everything was a blur.

It had started after Vigil, she thought.

Suddenly everything had been moving quickly, and she hadn't had time to second-guess or feel, just do and keep going, keep going...keep going. And then it'd crashed into her. Literally, something had fallen on her, she remembered that part. Nearly squashed her into Shepard-paste.

But she'd made it, and then, and then...

_I love you._

Blood loss. She'd seen in Garrus' eyes that he wasn't there, not really. He'd gotten it much worse than her, much worse than Liara- which was all Faith's fault. It was all her fault, but...he hadn't meant it. He hadn't been all there.

She stalled, swaying, with three steps left. One, two, three. The easiest steps to take, she'd just done a hundred before them, but for some reason...

“You could turn around,” she told herself, voice echoing in the stairwell, a quiet rasp.

It wasn't too late. But for some reason, in her exhausted mind, those three steps meant it would be too late. If she made it to that landing, there was no going back. She shouldn't have left. She should have gone to find him, been at his side. He'd been so hurt, and Chakwas said he'd be okay, but...

He was going to wake up and find she wasn't there.

Three more steps.

Hesitantly a foot slid back, and then it was four steps as she staggered back, putting more space between her and inevitability. She didn't want him to wake up alone. At the very least, she should be by her friend, shouldn't she? Her best friend. The one who was always there for her, and now she'd decided she couldn't be there for him?

Except...

He'd said he loved her- three words like a death sentence for anything resembling a way out of this. Even if Garrus didn't remember saying it, she couldn't fucking forget, which meant it was too damn late. They'd won the battle...

And she'd lost her friend.

If he wouldn't fucking save himself from the inevitable misery, then she'd have to do it for both of them. That was something Shepard was good at. Making the hard choices- because they were the right ones.

Garrus had been right.

It was about the greater good.

There was barely any good in the only fucking relationship that could be managed between them. They'd tried, and she'd fucked up even that. But in time, it'd all be fear, resentment, regret, and what ifs. So many what ifs. She was used to being what she was, but she couldn't do that to him. He could be so happy with someone else.

Four...then three steps.

And then none.

Pushing open the door, Shepard stepped out into her hallway and found her empty apartment.

It was as close to home as it got for her.

Someone else knew he was awake before Garrus did.

He heard voices as he reached for consciousness, the slippery thing that had been escaping him for what felt like weeks. Sometimes it'd almost be there, but then it would escape from his grasp. This time, though, he felt his mind slowly begin to wake, function again.

Nothing hurt.

There was a pressure on his upper arm, but he couldn't feel it, which was worrying enough that he finally forced his eyes open, dry and sticky. Uncomfortable. His vision blurred, but eventually focused in on the hand on his heavily-covered arm, finally wandering up to the face.

It was a relief it was familiar.

“Doctor Michel...”

“Garrus,” she greeted with a smile that looked exhausted. She was disheveled, and he could see the lines on her face from a surgical mask. “Good, I was beginning to worry the anesthetic wasn't wearing off properly.”

His brain came to with a surge of panic, flooding with images and chaos all at once. He closed his eyes tightly, breathing in sharply as confusion overtook him. Flashes, moments that he could only half-remember- Joker shouting, Saren's skeleton somehow made of metal, a moment of panic when he couldn't hear her voice.

_He couldn't hear her voice._

“Garrus?”

“Chloe, he'll be all right, just give him a moment. Can you head down the hall and administer those vaccinations? The last thing we need is a plague sweeping through this place with how packed it is.” Another familiar voice, this one calmer and more in control.

“Of course, Karin. Garrus, I'll be back in a little while. I'll let your father know you're awake.”

There was silence for a moment, and then the busy sounds of someone moving around the room with purpose. “Your vitals are spiking. Try to breathe, or you're going to make people panic.”

It was Doctor Chakwas. She'd know what was going on. He forced himself to breathe at last before he blacked out, oxygen flooding his brain.

“Slower.”

It was an order. Concentrating on the cadence of his breaths, he inhaled and exhaled in a steady rhythm, the pounding of his heart easing out. Finally he could speak again.

“I don't remember what happened.”

“Saren and Sovereign are dead,” she said. “Turn your head.”

He did as she ordered, opening his eyes again at last. He was in an actual room, and for some reason that seemed off. Garrus seemed to remember being hauled somewhere else. Maybe he'd been moved. The doctor stuck something to the side of his neck, and then tilted his head back to meet her eyes. Looking at them, not into them.

A very assessing look.

“You took an awfully bad crack to the skull, but your pupils are normal now,” she said, giving him a once-over. “We managed to save your arm in surgery. Everything's intact, you just need a few weeks of recovery time due to the state of your back. I need to monitor you in case of infection, we're doing our best, but it's all a bit makeshift right now.”

“ _Weeks_?” he asked faintly. It must have been bad, then.

Doctor Chakwas looked amused. “Weeks, he says, as if I said months. Turians. Young man, you should be grateful that it isn't longer.”

There was something more important than his own recovery, though. “Faith.”

“Is alive and in better shape than you, as is Liara,” Doctor Chakwas said, with softer humor. There was something in her face, though, that kept him from being too relieved. She looked worried.

“But.”

She laughed quietly. “But. She is Faith. Snuck out the instant we left her alone,” Doctor Chakwas didn't sound worried about that, just exasperated.

He needed to know more than that. “Where is she?”

“We don't know,” Doctor Chakwas said, frowning and glancing aside at his vitals monitor. “Garrus. Calm down. Mister Moreau says she's fine, and if that's good enough for David Anderson, that's good enough for us.”

“I want to talk to Joker,” he insisted, his mind deciding that wasn't nearly good enough. “I want-”

“You _need_ to rest,” Doctor Chakwas said, exasperated. “If you keep spiking your heart rate like this, I'm going to put you back to sleep.”

Another familiar voice was heard, this one less welcome than the doctors had been, bringing with it a tension and anxiety. Anticipatory shame, but also relief. He was all right. “Son.”

“Father,” he greeted faintly, eyes shifting aside from the doctor's warning look as she withdrew.

Doctor Chakwas nodded to his father in passing, stepping around him an exiting. Unsurprisingly, Castis Vakarian was in his C-Sec armor, armed and probably on duty even now. Garrus expected there was a lot to do right now. And here he was, stuck in bed.

The single word hadn't been enough to try and identify the emotions in it under the surface, but when Castis spoke again, he could hear the relief that made the harsh words bite less. “You know, there's a lot of good people out there in field hospitals while you're here lounging in a bed, Garrus.”

Garrus managed a smile. “Didn't you hear? We saved the Citadel.”

“I did hear that,” Castis said, approaching and reaching out a hand. Garrus had to reach across himself to clasp his father's arm, the nearest one still a dead weight. The embrace was brief, but strong. “They're calling your human friend the Hero of the Citadel.”

“Oh, she's going to hate that,” Garrus laughed roughly, eyes briefly closing. “She's going to hate that.”

“Those are usually the only kinds of people who deserve the titles,” Castis said, which was probably as close to a compliment as he'd ever get. “You got Saren. What are you going to do now?”

He could hear the judgment, but it was a heavy sort, conflicting with something else. Garrus wasn't sure it was pride, but he knew if it was, it was grudging. His father had never been particularly impressed by anything that wasn't him doing what was expected.

“Afraid I'm going to keep running around the galaxy with a bunch of humans?”

“Yes,” Castis said bluntly.

Garrus laughed, faint and rough. “I wanted to get Saren. I got Saren.” He'd made plans before, something to keep him moving forward when he'd acknowledged things weren't going to work out with Faith, but...she wasn't here. He needed to know for sure. “Right now I'm just trying to think about that. They say I'm going to be laid up for weeks, I've got time to think.”

“Weeks?” Castis asked, as disbelieving as he had been.

“I may have taken a couple explosions to the back.” That made him smile, bringing up the faint memory of her yelling at him for taking the bomb for her. And then...maybe again later? That was much more indistinct.

“Usually I'd say there's no coming back from bad choices, but maybe...while this one was incredibly _reckless_ , there might be coming back from it. C-Sec is still there. I spoke with Executor Pallin, and he's willing to reinstate you at your previous rank.”

Of course he had. Knowing his voice would be full of annoyance he couldn't hide from his father, Garrus drawled, “thank you so much.”

“Consider it in your...thinking. It's not something that would be offered to many people.”

“I did get Saren,” he pointed out, chuckling faintly.

“Yes, as you keep saying,” Castis said brusquely, but there was just enough humor there to reassure him. “Your point has been made, Garrus. I'd better get back to work. There's a lot to do right now.” His wrapped shoulder got a brief clasp, and Castis turned back towards the door.

_Wait._

His mind was functional enough to realize now that there was something he could do for Faith. Maybe it'd help with whatever she was going through. “One thing. There was a little girl. A friend of Shepard's. She was a patient at Huerta. Human. Emi. I don't think she had a last name. She was a duct rat.”

Castis paused, turning to glance back at him. Head tilting down, he brought up his omni-tool, fingers flicking through menus. Garrus tried not to hold his breath- Doctor Chakwas would yell at him again.

“Hmmh. Emi Shepard, according to the extranet. Sounds like she saved a few dozen children from the hospital and some of the nurses- showed them how to get into the ducts when they didn't make it to the ships in time. Reckless, that. Those ducts are dangerous.”

“More dangerous than the geth?” Garrus asked, both relieved and somehow not in the slightest bit surprised.

“Well. Either way. There's an article already on the extranet if you want to read it yourself. The only people working harder than C-Sec seem to be the press,” Castis said, sounding downright disgusted with that fact.

Garrus always wondered if his disdain was simply because he'd been _in_ the press so much. “How many reports with my name in them?” he asked.

Castis shot him a look of disapproval. “Worry less about that, Garrus. Call your sister when you can.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I'm glad you survived, son,” Castis said, and left.

The door slid closed, and Garrus shifted his attention aside to the bedside table. Great, they'd left his omni-tool. It was hard work pulling himself up, and he had a feeling a nurse would be in shortly to yell at him for it, but whatever analgesics they'd given him were working enough that he didn't feel it.

His body was heavy, but not in pain.

Unfortunately, the table was on the side that wasn't working properly, so he had to lean over and swipe it off the table at full extension, nearly fumbling it to the floor. It slid off the edge, but he caught it, flopping back against the bed with a heavy sigh. That should _not_ have been so difficult.

It flickered to life without much trouble, but it was hard to navigate one-handed. It was Faith's comms that he tried first. He watched the calling animation, relieved when it actually picked up after a couple seconds. Her voice. Tired and worn, but her voice.

“Thank you for calling, this is Shepard, Alliance Commander and Council Spectre. My comms are inaccessible, and this address will soon be deactivated. You are welcome to leave a message, but please do not ask to be contacted. If this is an emergency, seek a different contact, do not message me. You will not receive a response. Your understanding's appreciated. I am not speaking to the press at this time.”

Well, all right.

There was a part of his brain that insisted she obviously didn't mean him, but it wasn't as if he didn't know who to call to get more information. It made sense that too many people were trying to contact her right now, and if her comm address had gotten on the extranet or something it was understandable she'd be changing it. Garrus didn't need to be pestering her before he knew what the situation was. Maybe she just needed some time to-

Wait, time. How long had he been here? It couldn't have been longer than a day or so, or she would have been in contact, right?

His heart dropped when he checked the date and time.

He'd been out for four days.

And she hadn't come to see him.

“My patience is running out, and I basically had none to start with, Faith.”

It was the only message left for her on the new comm channel she'd bought after closing her old one down earlier that day. Hopefully anyone who tried to contact her had gotten the recorded message she'd left before she disconnected. She didn't need anyone panicking.

Only family had her new one.

Mom was safe. Joker had reassured her that everyone was safe, including the kid. She hadn't asked for details. The only thing she looked up on the extranet was the death reports. Grim, maybe, but she didn't want to see the propaganda right now, didn't want to know if she was the hero or the villain. Right now she was calculating.

There were too many names to memorize, but every day at least there were more numbers.

She had a tally going on right now, on her omni-tool. Every day updated with the numbers. How many survived on Citadel versus how many had died. Slowly she'd stopped saying 'how many she killed', which Amanda agreed was progress. They were working on it together.

Anyone else would have said this was self-destructive wallowing, self-flagellation and unnecessary suffering, but Amanda understood this was how she processed.

And Amanda promised if she showered, ate, and hydrated, she wouldn't demand anything else right now.

She was updating the new totals when the apartment door chimed a guest. Faith glanced up, eyes narrowed. Who the hell- how the hell had he gotten her address? The little bastard...

Shoving to her feet, she pushed off from the wall and wandered across the empty living room, ducking around the faintly-glowing, translucent screen barrier between entry and living room. Her totals were playing across its surface, something easier on the eyes to watch than the omni-tool.

Faith didn't care enough to hide it.

When the door slid open, she crossed her arms, meeting eyes that were narrowed with annoyance. She didn't crack, lips pursing tightly, matching the stare with her own. It lasted for way too long, until he finally broke with a sigh.

“You're worrying people,” Joker accused, limping past her when she stepped back and gestured him in. “Do you know how hard it is to get a fucking air car right now?”

“I didn't ask you to come out here,” she said, ignoring the way he stared at the screen as they went past it. “I don't have any chairs, Joker. You know you can't sit on the floor.”

“You don't have any _anything_ ,” he said pointedly, scanning the empty, white space. “What the hell, Shepard? Are you sleeping on the floor?”

She wasn't joking about him not being able to sit on the floor, she knew how painful it was for him to extend his legs like that. But she couldn't make him stand, either. The incredible ass.

“Yeah? So what.”

“Well, there's nowhere to sit, so I guess we'll have to go out.”

“Oh no, you're not winning that easily,” Shepard said stubbornly, heading through the apartment. The bathroom door slid open, and she slapped the toilet seat down. “Here ya go, Joker, a throne fit for you.”

She flopped on the floor, back to the sink, and crossed her arms. A few seconds passed as he stood in the doorway, giving her a look of tired disbelief. He didn't have a choice, though, because she wasn't going to move. Finally he sighed and moved over, settling slowly and gingerly on the toilet.

Shepard tried not to be guilty. “This feels a lot like emotional blackmail.”

“It is,” Joker said. “It's been over a damn week. Do you know how _worried_ people are about you? They're starting to write articles about 'Where is Commander Shepard?' and if it's some big fucking conspiracy, like you died in the attack and they're lying about it.”

“I can't stop people from being stupid,” Shepard said tiredly. “Amanda is helping me cope. I'm coping. Doing my best, okay? I just need some time.”

Joker snorted. “Obsessing over how many people have died isn't coping.”

“It is for me,” she said, rubbing her forehead. “I just have to know I made the right call, okay?”

“And that's what your friends are for. To _reassure_ you, Faith. To, I dunno, lift you up or whatever hokey bullshit they say. Why didn't you contact someone better at being reassuring, huh? I am not equipped for this.” Joker looked genuinely tired, and this time she felt bad.

“I shouldn't have made you my first line of defense, it wasn't fair to you.”

“I don't care,” Joker dismissed with a shrug. “Listen, the new Council is gonna be here soon, and they're gonna want to- I don't know. Probably give you a medal or something. Whatever they do for Spectres. And you and I both know you've gotta speak to the press.”

“I will when I'm ready,” she said quietly. “They've always been on me to take a leave. Now I take some time, and everyone's yelling 'not like that'!”

“Okay, so what _are_ you ready for? We're all on standby for you, Faith. Every single one of us.”

“I wanna leave. I want to go back to work, Joker. The problem is, standing between me and my ship is the wreckage, the damage, the press, the Council- Udina, and...” Her voice cut off, but she forced herself to finish weakly, “and everybody I've gotta say goodbye to. And I don't know if I'm ready for that.”

“I figured we'd throw a party or something, get drunk together one last time. Don't you at least want to say thank you to everybody that stuck by you? Not even Wrex has left yet, you know. And if you wanna sneak out of here and take off, I'm going to be flying you, but...I don't know. I feel like you'd regret it.”

“They need to move on. It's over now, and they need to get back to their lives. I don't like that they're waiting for me.” She stared at her hands, picking at a hangnail. She needed to hydrate better, or Amanda would have words for her.

“Ugh, are you really gonna make me get in the middle of this? Damn it Faith. You know he's waiting for you to call him. And I know the uptight dinosaur would follow you if you ask, so what's the big deal?”

It was probably time to be honest. What was even the point of hiding it any more? “Well, Joker, I'm fucking allergic to him, that's what the big deal is,” she admitted at last. “Remember the spar? That was him. Not the fucking ration bars. I'm even allergic to his _carapace_.”

There was dumbfounded silence, and she finally rolled her head to the side and met Joker's wide eyes. Yep. That was about what she'd expected.

“Holy _shit_ , Shepard.”

“Ye-ep,” she slurred.

“You are so fucking _broken_! And I know broken.”

“The worst part is, he still wants to try, and I can't fucking do that. That's not any way to live. I need a clean break. It's the only way I can deal with this bullshit, okay?”

“Yeah, but you can't _ghost_ the guy,” Joker said flatly.

“Oh my god, people do it all the time,” she sighed, reaching up and rubbing her forehead. It made her arm ache, but the break was only days out from being completely healed now. “It's what's best for him.”

“He's a grown m- uh, turian. I don't think you get to decide what's best for him.”

“It's what I do,” Shepard replied flatly, meeting his eyes again. “It's like, my entire job. Do you know how _bad_ he would feel if he killed me, Jeff?”

They stared at each other.

Joker sighed. “Fine. I'll drop it. Nobody's going to stop the Hero of the Citadel if she decides to take off, and honestly no one's having a lot of fun here right now, so-”

“Wait, the what?” she interrupted him. Oh god, no. Not a _title_.

“Have you not been checking the news at _all_?”

“No! The fuck you think I wanna look at the news right now for?” she snapped tiredly. “I have literally been sleeping and talking to my therapist, this has not been Shepard's Party Time!”

“Well yeah, the press kind of gave you a title and everyone's probably gonna run with it.”

“Gross,” she said. “I get it's not for me, but for everyone else. I can deal with it, but if you ever call me that shit again I'm going to go feral and bite something off. Something you'll miss.”

“So basically you like you always are.”

“Hur hur hur, chucklefuck.”

She managed a smile when he grinned at her, slowly shaking her head.

“You really okay with just getting out of here?”

“Nobody else is allowed to fly you,” Joker said with a shrug. “Like I said, this place isn't exactly fun shore leave right now, and there's a lot out there that still needs to be done. I get what's going on with Garrus now, but I know you'd feel like shit about Tali and Liara, and even Wrex. Plus Anderson's gonna yell at you if you don't talk to anyone. Besides, Shepard...”

“What?” she asked faintly, rubbing her hands on her knees.

“What about the kid? You're gonna break her heart if you don't see her soon. I know you don't want that. I keep making excuses for you, but...”

Shepard let out a long, tired sigh, dropping her head on the backs of her hands. Damn it, he was right. Emi thought the sun shone out of her butt, and she should at least say goodbye to the kid.

“Point made. I'll call David and Emily Wong and start setting things up. Can you make sure the crew's ready to go in two days?”

“Aye aye, ma'am,” Joker said. “Now...could you fucking help me up? Your chair is shit.”

For the first time in a while, Shepard laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter got up to like 7k and wasn't nearly done so I split it >D Thank you, by the way. It means a lot to me, every kudos and comment, even everyone who's just reading along- writing this has helped me get through a tough time. <3 Love!


	35. Chapter 35

“Faith. I have a question.”

In the empty apartment, Shepard rolled her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. An empty home. There was probably a metaphor in there, or an idiom- or worse, a pun. Whichever it was, it had smeared its greasy, ironic fingers all over her brain.

Since Joker had been in here it wasn't an escape any more.

“Hit me, Amanda.”

“Over the last week, you've mentioned Marcus more times than I've heard you do so in almost ten years. And yet...he's never been further from your life. Why is that?”

“Aren't you supposed to lead me up to that?” she asked, laughing roughly.

“Oh, but I know that doesn't work on you. Why is Marcus Whitmore on your mind?”

She let out a breath, freeing her mind to wander over the memories that kept popping up, again and again over the last few months. “I think the kid might have shook loose something in my brain. A fragment, a crack, a change in perspective, I don't know. Is this a thing? Where, at a certain point in your life you look back and it isn't _you_ any more? It is, but it's not, because you were a kid.”

“The further you get from your past, the easier it gets to look at it objectively, yes.”

“Maybe that's it. And, I don't know. There's no point where you stop being a kid, you know- I get that, it's a gradient, but if there was a single, singular point in my life when my fuckin' childhood died, I don't know. I guess that was it.”

“Hmm?”

Shepard idly lifted a hand to her neck, dragging fingers across her throat. “You know, in the court room. When I stood up for myself.”

Liar.

But she'd never told anyone what Marcus had done to her in the bathroom, and she wasn't going to start now.

“I remember how eager you were to do so.”

“Yeah, I remember thinking- this is it, I'll finally speak for myself, and then no one will ever get in my way again. I was such a dumb kid. What is adulthood but trying to do what you need to while everything's in your way?”

“It can feel that way at times, certainly. So, it's not about Marcus as it is about your childhood, and what he represents- namely the end of it?”

“Yeah, I suppose so. You know I was a pretty awfully unpleasant kid. Unfriendly, stubborn, self-centered...”

“Is that really how you want to treat that child, Faith?” Amanda asked her, neutrally.

Faith laughed. “The truth isn't cruelty. Besides, I know how much of it was caused by just how damn lonely I was- I'm not that kid any more. But I was always...I was always sure I was right. And I miss that. I miss when I knew what the right choice was. I miss when I didn't lie in bed staring at the ceiling second-guessing everything I've done. I wish I still felt like I did when I knew what I wanted and I took it and everything worked out. When I won.”

“That surety comes from a lack of experience and perspective, Faith, not moral infallibility. But it's normal to mourn ignorance. There's a reason so many people choose it, and do so much evil in their ignorance.”

“I wonder if tomorrow I'll miss the person I am today,” Faith sighed quietly. “I know I already miss the person I was six days ago.”

“There's only one direction we can go. And I think you're ready to move on. Under one condition.”

Faith smiled, closing her eyes to shut out the too-empty room. “If you say a damn thing about taking a break...”

“After how hard I had to fight with you to convince you that friends aren't a _distraction_ from your goals, Faith, the least you can do is act like one. Say goodbye to them, but don't you dare go and drop off the edge of the galaxy. Comms work. You don't have to just disappear.”

“Okay, okay! Okay,” Faith said, heaving a long sigh. “You know I have an inherited genetic disorder that makes me bad at staying in contact with people.”

“Well, you are your mother's daughter,” Amanda said dryly. “Fight your genes, Faith.”

“If only I could, Amanda, if only I could,” Faith said, pushing up from the wall. Her bag was already packed and ready to go. Packed with uh...empty wrappers. But still, no point in leaving the place full of trash.

“I'm going to let you go. You have things to do, and you're ready. My daughter in law wants Amir and I to come over and decorate cookies with the children. Happy Valentine's, dear.”

Blinking, Faith checked the date again, and then gave a faint 'huh'. “Happy Valentine's. Tell Amir I say hello.”

“Will do.”

“Shepard out.”

Pulling on her baseball cap, Shepard returned to reality.

It'd been the softest softball interview Faith had ever been lobbed in her life.

Wong was a good reporter, and an honest one, but even she knew when to give people what they wanted. She also knew Shepard wasn't there to play hardball. So, it'd been amicable and hopeful and earnest and full of fucking soundbites, because if there was one thing Faith Shepard was, it was a goddamn professional.

It said all the things people needed to hear right now.

Weirdly enough, being reassuring and uplifting had actually helped. Giving people what they needed to strive and move forward felt good. It might not have been a hundred percent the truth, but sometimes that's what people needed. And in being the one to give it, Faith felt a little better.

“Thank you so much for your time, Commander,” Wong said when the recording drone finally turned off. Faith didn't let her smile fall, but she did let it go easy, less hero and more human.

Charming.

She let a little confiding laziness seep into her voice. “Yeah, well, if I didn't talk to someone they were gonna keep saying I'd been...what are they saying now? Kidnapped by turians? No, wait, dead, but they're hiding my body until they can grow a clone of me.”

“People say a lot of things,” Wong said, rising to her feet. Faith did the same, and they clasped hands. “But hopefully now they'll start saying the right things. I appreciate that you chose me to help clear the air.”

“I know interviews like this aren't your thing, but I trust you,” Shepard said. “I've always felt like trust is a just a choice- and something you give to other people. Then it's up to them to prove you right or wrong. I look forward to seeing you prove me right.”

Emily Wong smiled, eyes softening. Their eyes connected, really connected this time. “I look forward to doing so.”

The script was there in her brain, an easy, familiar one. The kind that started with that particular smile and a tilt of her head, a change in body posture to make things more intimate. But not aggressive.

_I would love to buy you a drink some time._

Shepard did none of those things, but she saw it play out in her head.

When Wong left the office Anderson had set aside for her, Faith returned to the desk and slumped into its more comfortable chair. Shit, she was drained. It'd taken everything she had earlier not to eat Udina's face off like a rabid possum on a starvation diet. At least the weasely bastard understood she'd been pushed as far as she'd go, and he couldn't expect her to be trotted out on his behalf.

She expected David had helped with that.

There was an article up on the console she'd read like three times now. Damn was she ever proud of the little pain, but why the hell had Emi gone around telling everyone her name was Shepard? Like she needed any more complications. But it was good for Emi, in the long run. She couldn't imagine that there weren't thousands of people out there now who would be delighted to adopt the littlest hero of the citadel.

Shepard had been so hard on herself after the last week, but...

A line stood out to her, and she let her eyes drift across it again, a small smile on her face. _'Shepard said if I believed, things would come true. So I believed I was brave, and I was. I can be a super hero, too.'_

“Pain in my ass,” Shepard said, quietly choked. She reached up and pinched her nose to try and stop the tears, but it didn't work. At least not until the door slid open, and then she was quickly blinking them away, shooting to her feet.

It was Tali.

“Hey,” she greeted, stepping around the desk.

“Shepard,” Tali said, relieved. “I was starting to worry.”

“Sorry about that, I had to shut down some vital processes in order to run maintenance,” Shepard joked, stepping into a brief, but friendly hug.

“I understand that completely,” Tali said sympathetically, stepping back and clasping her on the shoulders. “But you're all right now?”

It would be so easy to brush it off with a winning smile and a laugh. But she'd promised to do better. “Battered and bruised. Trying to look at the bright side, I'm not in jail! Most people can't get away with stealing an Alliance ship, so I should probably be grateful.”

“Most people aren't you, Shepard.”

A little embarrassed, Faith laughed, shaking her head. Change the subject. “You looking forward to seeing your dad- the Admiral again?” she asked, flashing a quick grin. “I bet he's proud as hell of you.”

“He is. And I am,” Tali said, helmet bobbing in a quick nod. “I'm also looking forward to returning to the Floatilla. Partially because I really want to get started on that data.”

“No rest for the wicked!” Shepard said cheerfully, and then laughed. “Idiom, sorry. I try to keep an eye on it these days.”

“We're used to it by now,” Tali assured her with a laugh of her own. There was a moment of silence, a sudden awkwardness in Tali's stance as she stepped back and twisted her hands together.

Shepard smiled. “What?”

“I know it isn't my place, but I think you should talk to Garrus,” Tali said, and continued over her heavy sigh. “I'm not going to say anything else, just that I think you should. He's my friend, too, Shepard.”

Again, the urge to smooth it over was almost overwhelming, but instead Faith just sighed, gathering her thoughts. Tali was right. Not about talking to Garrus, but about being his friend and thus, it being her business. “It's your place. But...I think it's better if I just go. Clean break. I don't always think clearly around him, Tali, and I don't want to leave any room to be misunderstood. I get it makes me the bad guy...but you know everything between us, and he needs to live his life without that fear in it.”

“You know it's going to hurt him, don't you?”

The twinge of pain was as bad as ever, but she welcomed it.

“I do,” Shepard said with a nod, and then dropped her head. “Yeah. I do. And I know I probably already have. But I'm...that's a crime I'm willing to live with. The lesser of two evils, Tali. The greater good.”

“If you've made up your mind, you've made up your mind,” Tali said with a small sigh. “I don't _understand_ it, but by now I know that you're going to do what you think is right no matter what anyone says. Well. I'm going to miss you, too, Shepard.”

“We won't be strangers,” Shepard assured with a smile, crossing her arms. “I've been specifically instructed not to be an ass and fall off the edge of the galaxy. I've got new comms, you'll get them, we'll keep in touch. Somebody's gotta keep you coming up for air once you get to work on that data.”

“Thank you, Shepard, for everything. It's been an honor to fight beside you.”

They chatted for a while longer about easier things. She appreciated Tali dropping it- she knew her friend didn't understand it, didn't understand why they didn't just figure out a way to make it work. That was Tali, though. Solving problems.

Maybe if it was only her in danger, Shepard could have found a way to live with it, but...dragging someone else into the horror show that was her fucked up body was too much. Whatever pain she was causing now was the bare minimum. They'd always known it was going to be over. Dragging it out any further would just be adding to the pain.

When Tali left it was with another hug, and a promise to talk soon.

Shepard spent the time waiting for her last appointment idly scanning the news. She could handle it now, so she might as well see what shit people were saying. Hopefully the Earth-Firster bullshit that claimed she was 'destroying the alien-centric galactic order for the good of humanity' would fuck off when her interview came out. Why _anyone_ could look at her record and believe she felt that way, she didn't know.

Maybe she should marry an Asari and father like fifty little blue babies to make them all cry.

Spite babies.

Shepard would probably be about as shitty a father as she would be a mother, though. Wouldn't wish that on any kid. And speaking of kids...

The door slid open only slightly faster than the small figure barreling through it.

Someone had actually given the kid a proper haircut, Shepard noted, but that was all she had time for. She'd barely pushed out of her chair when Emi rocketed into her. Staggering under the impact, Shepard laughed, reaching down and patting her shoulder. “Okay, okay.”

“You were _gone_ and nobody knew where you were and Beth said you _died_!”

“You saved her life, and she's still being a bitch?” Faith asked, getting a disapproving look from the social worker standing just inside the door.

Emi huffed. “Yes!”

“Wow, talk about dedication,” Shepard said, pulling back so she could kneel down, looking Emi in the face. “You're okay, soldier?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Emi said more soberly, dark eyes fixed on Shepard intently. “Where did you go?”

“Around. Shepard stuff. How about your foster dads, they make it okay?” Shepard asked, and smiled at the rapid nod that got her. “Good. You promised you'd stay with them once you were out of the hospital, so you've gotta hold to that. I'm sure they're going to help you find a really good family to adopt you.”

Emi gave her an accusing look, but Shepard kept going before the inevitable protest could come out. “Emi. I told you from the start that there's no way they're gonna let you adopt me. I'm a Spectre, kiddo. Why are you going around calling yourself Shepard?”

Emi glanced down, the accusation fading into embarrassment, a flush creeping up her cheeks. “It made me feel brave, like you.”

Okay, no way she could be mad at that. Fine, repercussions be damned. If it was what the kid needed to do what she'd done, then Shepard didn't have a leg to stand on. But, still...

“Emi, you weren't brave like me. You were way braver than I am,” Shepard said, tilting her head to meet the kid's eyes again as they reluctantly lifted. “You believed in _yourself_ , and you did it. That's amazing! I wish I could believe in myself like that.”

“But you're Shepard!” Emi protested, eyes widening. “How can you not?”

“It gets harder the older you get,” Shepard admitted with a lopsided smile, sitting back on her heels. “When you get older you need more people to believe in you so you can believe in yourself. Hey. I'm really proud of you. You were a real super hero.”

Emi beamed from ear to ear, thin shoulders straightening. Then it faded, her forehead furrowing as she averted her eyes. “But...I- Shepard, I was really, really scared though. I didn't tell anybody even though the reporter kept asking how scared I was. But I was really scared.”

It didn't escape Shepard's notice that was a big thing to tell her. Kids feeling like they had to be tough was something she understood, and her poor shriveled little heart ached for Emi. She'd had to be tough for a long time. “I was too. You do what you have to, even though you're scared- that's what being brave is. You've got a big journey ahead of you, soldier, and lots more battles to fight. Some of them are gonna be scary as hell, but you can do _anything_.”

“Even math?” Emi said dubiously, nose wrinkling.

“Even math,” Shepard chuckled. “But I don't blame you for not being a fan.”

“Uncle Joker says I can't be a pilot unless I do my math.”

Oh no.

Fighting back the snicker that tried its best to escape, Shepard's voice was a little tight as she asked, “is that what you wanna do?”

“Yeah.”

“Did ah- did he tell you call him that, kiddo?”

Emi smirked, smug. “No, he keeps telling me not to.”

Shepard finally gave in and cackled, grateful someone else was getting it as bad as she was. “Oh, shit, that's funny. Yeah, keep it up, kid. It's good for him. I'd be good with Aunt Faith.”

Emi gave her a dark look, crossing her arms over her chest. “No.”

“We'll work on it,” Shepard sighed, and then forced an easy smile. “Life'll teach you to compromise sooner or later. Now. The galaxy doesn't stay saved- I know, it's bull-” The social worker was giving her a look again- “crap. I gotta say goodbye to some people and head out. I'll contact you when we're on our way back to the Citadel, okay?”

“You promise?”

“I promise,” Shepard agreed. “Remember, I'm always up there in the stars.”

She managed to escape after a couple more hugs and some stubborn clinging. Such a pain in her butt. When she found David again she was in a fairly good mood- probably a better one than he was in. Their farewell was quick, considering how swamped he was in work, but she'd be talking to him again soon, anyways.

They were just tying up loose ends she hadn't had time for while chasing Saren, after all.

Anderson had a report for her that Chris Toombs was being well taken-care of, and they had high hopes for his recovery, which was one more weight off her mind. He was transferred to Earth, so she didn't have time to see him, but maybe soon. Depended on if she'd make him feel better or worse.

Shepard had already called Liara, but it'd just been a brief farewell, considering they were going to see each other soon. Liara had left that morning to find a bunch of things she wanted Shepard to translate for her. It was amusing, and typical.

She wouldn't be surprised if Liara found a way back to Ilos soon- if anyone would, it'd be her.

It would be nice if she could find a way to save Vigil. The VI had done a lot for them. Seemed a shame for him to fade away in a ruin.

Shepard should probably talk to the Council about getting the conduit shut down if it was still active, too. They didn't need to leave something like that sitting out. For later, though. The new Council had been elected with bureaucratic efficiency, but that didn't mean they didn't need time.

They were inheriting a clusterfuck.

Once she finished laying out her plans with Anderson, she made her escape. The Presidium wasn't untouched and it was pretty stuffed full of people at the moment, but she'd pulled a hoodie over her armor and her hat back on, and she went relatively unnoticed. At least she hoped she had.

Shepard tapped her ear. “Joker, tell me something I like.”

“We are cleared for departure in one hour, Commander. Only waiting on a couple of the crew. Doc's going to be onboard shortly, she told me to tell you that she was insulted by your suggestion that she stay on Citadel.”

“Jeez, you try to be helpful. I guess a new medic corps did just arrive from Thessia. I'm just trying to find Wrex, and then I'll be by.”

“He's kinda hard to miss. Normandy out.”

Even in this chaos, that was true. She found him leaning against a railing outside of the descent to C-Sec, armored, with his arms crossed. Shepard lifted a hand as she approached, and he pushed up, helpfully scattering people out of the way. Grinning, she came to a stop in front of him, head tilting up.

“So I heard you're ditching me,” she said cheerfully, accepting his arm-clasp. Probably not enough space for a chest bump. She squeezed his forearm, and released the hold when he did.

“There's some things I need to do.”

She accepted that with a nod. “Sorry I couldn't get you Saren's head. What with the exploding and all. Thanks so much for fighting with me, Wrex. I learned a lot.”

“So did I, Shepard. And...thank you for not letting me get stupid about that genophage cure.”

“Well, you know. I got it, and I still do. It was hard having that dangled in front of your face like that, but the strings attached- man, really not worth it.” Shepard grimaced and shook her head.

Wrex snorted. “You can say that again. I don't do long goodbyes. Tell the kid I say goodbye, he didn't see me when he went past me.”

Shepard's mind blanked. Yeah, no, there was only one person Wrex called kid, and...damn it. It had to be Joker that had betrayed her. The little bastard! Ugh, why did he do stuff like this to her?

Reaching up, Shepard pinched her nose. “Damn it. Yeah. Okay. I'll do that.”

“You finally dumped him, huh? I figured he was going with you.”

“Oh my god, Wrex,” she complained in a small groan. “Well, at least I'm forewarned. Stay in touch, huh?”

“Maybe.”

He slapped her on the arm as he walked away. Sighing, Shepard lifted her head and watched him go, stomach knotted. Fuck. And here she'd been so close to getting out of here without having to face him. Well, maybe she could make it quick.

At least she wasn't having it sprung on her.

Shepard tapped her ear.

“Normandy.”

“I fucking hate you, Joker.”

“What? Commander, you're breaking up. Some sort of interference.”

Joker hung up on her.

_Ass._

Well, now the one thing she hadn't wanted to face was standing between her and her ship.

It was time to face up to it.

At some point, Garrus had been angry with Shepard.

It seemed to come and go. Anger, resentment, frustration, hurt, and then resignation and back around again. Everyone else had come to see him in the hospital before they left. Even Wrex. Granted, he'd just come because he'd heard Garrus lost an arm and wanted to gawk, but he'd come.

Not Shepard, though.

No, she'd stayed away, deactivated her comms, and apparently decided to run off and get on with her life pretending like they'd never even met.

He didn't expect people to come throw him a pity party or anything, but considering he'd gotten injured fighting at her side he'd at least assumed she'd care. Damn it. No, he kept doing that. She did care, that was the worst part- and that's why she was staying away. She probably thought he didn't understand, but he did. He knew her better than he'd realized until now.

It would have been worse if she had come by and had just said a few cheerful, detached words and then disappeared, because then he might think she didn't.

It was only thanks to Joker that he knew they were leaving at all, and only thanks to Doctor Chakwas that he'd been discharged in time. Yeah, technically still supposed to be on bed rest, but that was pretty low on his list of priorities right now. It'd been a week and a half without a _word_ from her.

And if she was determined to leave, he'd get his word.

Leaning against the railing at the beginning of the dock, he watched her appear from the corridor leading to the elevator. There was no way for her to slip past him. She didn't look surprised, though, when her eyes flicked past him. Her steps were slow. Trudging.

She'd known he was going to be here.

Great.

Garrus knew she could talk circles around him, he'd been hoping she'd be surprised. He might have actually had a chance to get some honesty out of her. Well, maybe he still could.

“If you try to walk past me, I'm going to be pissed,” he told her as she approached.

Shepard reached up and pulled off her hat, running her hand through her hair and twisting it back from her face. She wasn't looking at him. “It would have been easier if you'd let me do things my way.”

“Easier for you,” he countered, crossing his arms.

“No, Garrus for _you_ ,” she said, voice sharp, but brittle. “Easier for you. All of this- it doesn't matter. I don't want to get caught up in arguing, there's nothing left to argue. Goodbye.”

He wasn't surprised, but he was annoyed. “So I don't get a say. I don't get a _choice_.”

“No,” she said. Finally, their eyes met, and hers were hard. They'd always been so soft, and warm- but not this time. “No, you don't get a say. Because one of us has to make the choice, and one of us has to be the bad guy, and that's me. So no, you don't get a say, Garrus. I've decided. And I'm going to live with that.”

He scoffed, dropping his head in a slow shake, bitterness overtaking annoyance. “So damn self-sacrificing, Shepard. So _noble,_ ” he slurred sarcastically.

Shepard's response surprised him, made him a little ashamed of his assumptions.

“I promised to stop lying to you. Yeah, it is a sacrifice, Garrus. Do you think it's not? Do you think I feel nothing, that it isn't hurting _me_?” Her voice cracked over the last word, and it hurt. Cut like a knife. He knew he'd flinched, because her voice went softer. “This is what I was trying to _save_ you from.”

He didn't want to be angry at her. Hell, he didn't want to be angry at all, but the fucking unfairness of it all was going to eat at him. Probably forever.

“But who saves Commander Shepard if I'm not there?”

She laughed, tears breaking over the sound. It was heartbreaking. “I guess she saves herself.”

“She's pretty bad at it,” he said with resigned, sad humor, and smiled to himself when she laughed again. “If you won't take care of yourself for you, at least do it for me.”

It took her a moment to respond, and when he finally managed to look at her again, he met her eyes instantly. He wanted to reach out and wipe the tears from her cheeks, but he knew he couldn't. Not any more.

“For you,” she agreed, quietly.

“I can't fight this war alone. I wish you would fight with me,” he admitted, because if she could be honest, so could he.

“The right thing can be the hardest thing to do,” Shepard said, finally averting her eyes. “And the hardest thing in the world for me is losing, Garrus. I-” She stalled for a minute, and he heard her inhale slowly, the sound catching roughly. Finally she let it out through pursed lips. “I've always been kind of a lonely person. Thanks for making me a little less lonely for a while.”

It took him a second, too. Neither of them were looking at each other now. Him back towards the elevator- towards C-Sec. Her toward her ship.

“Well, I guess being a star would be pretty lonely. Thanks for guiding me for a little while.”

Maybe it did hurt more this way...but he didn't regret it.

“I- I should go,” she said, voice barely above a whisper.

“I'll check in on the kid for you.”

“She'll like that.”

Shepard walked away, but he couldn't feel like that was the way to end it. He didn't want her to leave crying- that wasn't them, and it wasn't right. If she was going to keep avoiding him like this for who knew how long, that wasn't how he wanted her to remember him.

Them.

“Hey!”

She paused at the bottom of the gangplank, glancing back at him. He smiled, and Faith hesitantly returned it, eyes still wet. He tried to keep his voice light, for her. Garrus wasn't a great liar, but he was starting to learn that it wasn't always bad.

“I never found out. Who got the kill shot?”

Her smile widened, but for some reason it was sadder this time. Faith tilted her head toward him. “You, Cowboy. It was you.”

“And don't you forget it,” he said, turning around and walking away. Garrus could be the one that left, not the one left behind. He didn't look back, not even once.

He could do that for her.

Six days later, Faith Shepard died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. <3 The ME2 installment of Faith's story will start on Dec 21st. I hope you'll keep reading along with me! For those reading the whole thing after it's been finished, thanks to you, too!
> 
> [one last song for you](https://open.spotify.com/track/0NJC0FDCODpPUntRTTQq97)


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